


Surrender the Dark Heart (Bounty Hunter Saga 1)

by ThePiesEndure



Series: The Guild Universe [5]
Category: Simple Plan (Band)
Genre: F/M, Simple Plan - Freeform, bounty hunter saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePiesEndure/pseuds/ThePiesEndure
Summary: Pierre Bouvier has a secret profession that the rest of Simple Plan know nothing about. The band is on tour when Pierre receives an urgent job.





	1. Preparing the Set

__

 

 _“Name?”_  
  
“Pierre Charles Bouvier.”  
  
 _“Date and place of birth?”_  
  
“9th of May 1979…Laval, Montreal, Canada.”  
  
 _“Profession?”_  
  
“Lead singer of Simple Plan.”  
  
 _“…Profession?”_  
  
“Do I have to say it?”  
  
 _“We need it for the records.”_  
  
“This is way off record.”  
  
 _“Profession.”_  
  
“Fine…fine…bounty hunter.”  
  
 _“We will connect you to HQ…thankyou and have a nice day.”_  
  
“‘Thankyou and have a nice day’…ugh…what do you think I’m doing…organising a family picnic…”  
  
Pierre glanced warily behind him making sure no one was near the public phone booth as he waited for his call to be connected. It was very early on a Saturday morning; so early in fact that the sun hadn’t even come up.  
  
“C’mon…hurry up…I haven’t got all…oh…good morning…yeah…it’s bloody freezing outside…I need to get back inside before I do damage to my vocal chords…no…it’s all there.”  
  
He paused for a moment as he listened then went on sourly.  
  
“I told you where I put it…I don’t make mistakes. Fine. Sue me…whatever…don’t contact me unless it’s urgent…good. Have a nice day…” those last words he sneered derisively down the line then slammed the phone down on the hook and stepped out of the booth.  
  
Cold air greeted Pierre as he walked back toward the band’s tour bus. His breath escaped in visible puffs of air into the atmosphere. Shaking his head he contemplated the weeks of touring ahead and smiled faintly.  
  
Balancing two careers was never easy; but for him he had the added complication that his second profession was a secret. No one in the band had any idea of what he had done, what he was capable of. And he had no plans to let them know…ever.  
  
In the world of professional killers it was important to always have another job to fall back on, to use as cover. Some of the best were businessmen, tradesmen even the average Joe. It was rare for people in the music and film industry to be involved but those who were, had extensive CV’s and were considered experts.  
  
Pierre was listed in the top ten professionals and had chalked up an impressive number of hits. Most of those were recognised by the Guild of Dominants &; Submissives of Toronto as he specialised in the tracking down of runaway slaves. Another reason not to let anyone know of his career leanings.  
  
In modern society slaves and submissives were used for purposes that people did not wish to speak of in public. Intentions were always well meant when one bought themselves a ‘person of the night’. But those that were born to servitude did not always respond well to their bondage. Those ‘subs’ were the ones that Pierre dealt with in each of his hits and because of that he rarely sought the company of the opposite sex.  
  
That characteristic contradicted the profile of any typical rock star but he did not care. He had more important things to worry about.  
  
Halting just in front of the tour bus, Pierre breathed in deep, cold air tickling his nostrils and slowly diffusing into his lungs. He closed his eyes for a moment then let the breath out feeling his neck muscles relax. After looking back once over his right shoulder he slid the door open and disappeared from view.  
  
* * * * *  
  
“You cost me an arm and a leg, bitch…and you’d do well not to forget it!”  
  
The young woman cowered on the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor, fear shining in her sapphire eyes. The man moved closer to her clutching a wooden spoon in his hand. There were tiny specks of flour dusted over the handle. He had been baking a cake when she had disturbed him as she had tried to escape out the door, which he had stupidly left open.  
  
He had been quick to react, seizing her by her long hair and dragging her into the kitchen throwing her onto the floor. And now she was cringing away from him as he scolded her and reminded her what she was worth. He watched her furiously then turned back to his cake. He heard her shuffle toward the door and shot her a warning glance.  
  
“Don’t even think of trying that again.”  
  
“No, Master…” her voice was low and defeated.  
  
She slipped out of the kitchen and he tilted his head as he heard her go into her room. Smiling faintly he switched his attention back to his cake.  
  
 _Two egg yolks…_  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Statute # 50: No slave/submissive can be released by a bounty hunter (released being defined as being legally freed of bondage) unless they have prior permission of the owner/Dominant and the Guild of Dominants & Submissives. Any hunter found guilty of doing so will be charged and have their license removed.**_


	2. The White Lily

_**Montreal City Grand Arena  
Sunday, 3PM**_  
  
Chuck Comeau was pissed off. None of the gear had arrived in time for sound check and the band were left milling around on a bare stage having to endure his ranting at the venue manager. He stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of his beige Dickie pants, speaking in short bursts as if he was afraid to let his words flow, such was his frustration.  
  
The other band members were sprawled across the stage. Jeff Stinco with his characteristically baldhead lay on the stage left ankle crossed over the right, half asleep. His tie was flipped up so it was resting over his face and moved slightly as he breathed in and out. Sebastien Lefebvre sat on the edge of the stage, legs dangling, talking to David Desrosiers who was combing his fingers through his black hair.  
  
However, the most noticeable of the five members of Simple Plan was Pierre Bouvier, lead singer and self-professed ladies man; at least that was the way his friends saw him. Clothed entirely in black he cut an impressive figure as he stood in the middle of the stage gazing out into the empty seats of the arena.  
  
He had one ear on Chuck’s conversation with the manager and the other on the quiet sounds that the venue itself issued. Pacing to the edge of the stage his shoes squeaked on the rough surface. Good grip was important for their shows because of all the jumping they did. They couldn’t afford to slip and break a bone or two.  
  
“ _Tabernack_! Just find our shit! Alright!?”  
  
Chuck’s voice rose and Pierre turned, his dark eyes narrowed, sensing his friend’s rising anger. He didn’t move though, watching as their friend and merch ‘whore’ Patrick walked over to Chuck and lead him away from the manager and spoke quietly to him.  
  
Pierre cast his eyes back to the empty arena tuning out Chuck’s complaints. He moved time forward in his mind smiling at the thought of the massive crowd their concerts managed to entice to this particular venue everytime they played there.  
  
“Hey, what are you grinning at, Bouvier?”  
  
Pierre blinked rapidly and swivelled his head to the side just in time to see David sidle up and tackle him to the stage, bounce up and take off to the other side.  
  
“Oi! Get back here!”  
  
He scrambled to his feet, spun around and chased after the slighter built man almost falling over Jeff in the process.  
  
“Dude, I’m trying to sleep here!”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes, turned on his heel and sank to the stage next to Jeff, forgetting about David who had, funnily enough, diverted his attention to something else: A butterfly that had somehow found its way into the arena and was darting around the bassist’s head. It was, much to his amusement, the same colour as his socks, pink and orange.  
  
As Pierre sat silently by his friend quietness pervaded the arena. Vaguely Pierre noted that Chuck had ceased his ranting. David was once again sitting next to Seb, having got bored of the fluttering insect; Jeff had gone back to sleep and Patrick was checking his video gear.  
  
Suddenly a series of events occurred in sharp succession.  
  
The stage door sprung open and a technician raced onto the stage announcing the arrival of the band’s gear; Patrick started swearing at his camera just as the battery went flat and Pierre’s cell phone let out a shrill insistent ring.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _An Apartment in Montreal City  
Sunday 3PM_**  
  
Liliane licked her lips to wet them as she worked silently on the metal cuff locked around her left ankle. She halted at the slightest sound knowing that if he caught her attempting to escape he would beat her. She still had bruises on her stomach and breasts from the last time.  
  
Leaning over the cuff she pulled a bobby pin from her hair and picked the lock. After several seconds she heard a soft click as the locking mechanism opened. Quickly, Liliane slipped the cuff off and rubbed her ankle, wincing, as it was tender to the touch.  
  
Placing both feet on the floor she glanced at the full-length mirror on the wall, assessing her appearance. Her long honey-blonde hair fell in waves over her bare shoulders. She wore a pale blue singlet and darker blue pants that hid her curvaceous figure.  
  
Breathing deeply Liliane rose stealthily to her feet and tiptoed her way to the window. As quietly as possible she pushed it open. She froze when she heard footsteps but then continued as they faded away. Once the window was fully opened, she grabbed the small satchel she had hidden under her bed in which she had accumulated necessary items over the past week.  
  
Slinging the strap over her head and shoulder she made her way back to the window. Climbing out she balanced precariously on the ledge just outside. Glancing up she breathed in the warm afternoon air. Glancing down she swallowed hard.  
  
The apartment was on the third floor and there was quite a way down to the ground. Yet, she had done this before without hurting herself. In fact this would be the tenth time she had attempted to escape. But this time she aimed to succeed in not getting recaptured.  
  
Tightening the strap of her bag, Liliane closed her eyes and jumped…  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **MC, Grand Arena  
Same Day, 7 PM**_  
  
“Damn it!”  
  
Chuck halted in the doorway of the backstage dressing room and looked back at Pierre.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“We’re supposed to go to the After Party tonight, aren’t we?”  
  
“Yeah, like always. Why?”  
  
Pierre growled in frustration.  
  
“I can’t…”  
  
“Why the hell not?”  
  
Chuck looked confused. He knew his best friend never passed up the chance to have a drink and go wild. Shaking his head Pierre came up behind him then squeezed passed. Jogging down the corridor to the area directly behind the stage he called back over his shoulder.  
  
“Just can’t!”  
  
Chuck followed and said to Pierre, as he was checking his microphone for the final time, “You have to be there.”  
  
The vocalist cast a scornful glance at his friend then turned toward the stage door awaiting his cue.  
  
Two hours later they were back in the dressing room. David collapsed on the couch and let his head flop over the back with an exaggerated groan. Seb slid down next to him water bottle in hand taking small sips from it as he watched Jeff rubbing sweat off his head.  
  
Chuck slouched in and threw his drumsticks on the only table in the room and sank on a stool letting out a deep sigh.  
  
“Where’s Pierre?”  
  
Jeff tossed his towel on the table and raised his eyebrows questioningly at Chuck. The drummer gave a one-shouldered shrug just as the dressing room door swung open and Pierre strolled in.  
  
Chuck wrinkled his nose slightly at his best friend. His black Role Model T-shirt clung to his torso soaked with sweat and he had a towel hanging over one shoulder.  
  
Pierre glanced at Chuck and smirked.  
  
“I stink, don’t I?”  
  
The drummer laughed grabbing his deodorant and throwing it to Pierre.  
  
“Here, have a shower in a can…”  
  
Laughing, Pierre peeled off his top, sprayed under his arms, and then fished in his bag for a clean T-shirt.  
  
“So, why aren’t you coming to the After Party?” Chuck queried as his friend tugged a clean black T-shirt over his head.  
  
“I have something I have to do…”  
  
Pierre rubbed his towel in his hair, mussing it up. Frowning he crossed to the small sink and stuck his head under the tap to wash all the gel out.  
  
“What could possibly be so important that you have to do it tonight?” Chuck snapped as Pierre dried his hair.  
  
“I can’t tell you that.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because it’s none of your business, Comeau.”  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence as the two friends glared at each other then without a word, Pierre seized his bag, slung it over his shoulder and stalked out of the room.  
  
After several minutes Chuck realised he was still staring at the door and turned away only to meet David’s confused gaze.  
  
“What’s up with him?” the bassist jerked his head in the direction that Pierre had gone.  
  
“I wouldn’t have a clue, David. Anyway, not much point in dwelling upon it. Knowing him, he’ll be at the party…later.”  
  
David rolled his eyes.  
  
“Of course…because he always loves a party…”  
  
Pat walked in then balancing his camera in his hands.  
  
“Who’re you talking about?” he asked as he placed the camera back in its bag.  
  
“Pierre, of course,” Jeff muttered turning his attention to them.  
  
“Oh? I just bumped into him out there…he looked like he was in a hurry.”  
  
Chuck scoffed.  
  
“Yeah, said he had to do something…”  
  
Pat decided not to ask sensing that Chuck wasn’t too happy with Pierre at the moment. Checking his watch he swung the camera bag over his shoulder and glanced at the remaining band members.  
  
“Time to go, guys…”  
  
David and Seb bounced up and raced out the door before the words had left Pat’s mouth. Jeff laughed as he followed close behind but at a slower pace.  
  
Pat turned to Chuck who sat gazing morosely at the floor.  
  
“Going to join us?”  
  
“Yeah…I guess…”  
  
Chuck rose from the stool and padded out the door. Pat brought up the rear letting the door click shut behind him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 __ **An Apartment in MC**  
Same Night  
10.30PM  
  
Justin Vernon paced the length of the corridor adjoining his apartment waiting nervously for the arrival of the one person he knew was capable of tracking his slave before she got too far away.  
  
He had never required the services of a bounty hunter in tracing Liliane’s whereabouts before because every other time he had managed to thwart her escape attempts. This time was different. By the time he’d reached her room she’d jumped off the ledge and disappeared from view.  
  
Shaking his head angrily at himself he continued to walk back and forth until he heard a voice speak from behind him.  
  
“You’ll wear a path in that rug if you keep that up.”  
  
Justin spun swiftly coming face to face with a man about the same age as he. He was dressed entirely in black and with the black wraparound shades he sported there was an air of menace to his presence. The only quirk that softened his demeanour was the tiny smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.  
  
“Oh…err…”  
  
Justin was uncertain how to address the man whose smile widened slightly.  
  
“You called me, about a runaway?”  
  
“Oh, yes, of course…won’t you come in?”  
  
He gathered his wits about him as he waved his hand down the hallway to the bounty hunter, who moved passed him and into spacious living quarters.  
  
“Nice place you have here, Vernon,” the man remarked casually.  
  
Justin nodded absently, noting that the hunter knew his name even though he hadn’t told him.  
  
“So, how can you help me…uh…?”  
  
“Pierre. My name is Pierre.”  
  
“Right, Pierre, what can you do for me?”  
  
Pierre turned to face Justin and removed his shades revealing cold brown eyes.  
  
“Anything you want me to do. I can track her, catch her, even dispose of her if that is your wish.”  
  
His voice was emotionless and professional, revealing nothing. Justin’s brow creased in thought. Pierre waited patiently, twirling his shades in his hand.  
  
His client surreptitiously took in his appearance. The bounty hunter was well built. The black T-shirt he wore hugged his well-muscled torso and as he folded his arms over his chest Justin could see the subtle bulge of his biceps. This was one hunter who could hold his own in a sticky situation.  
  
Nodding his head as he came to a decision, Justin spoke.  
  
“Okay. Pierre, here’s what I want you to do…”  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pierre bent down outside the block of apartments and frowned as he noticed what might have been inconspicuous to the untrained eye: A white lily.  
  
Straightening he looked up toward the darkened bedroom window that Justin had said was his slave’s escape route. Tilting his head one way then the other, stretching his neck muscles he then held the flower up close and squinted at it.  
  
Justin had told him that she loved wearing flowers in her hair, particularly lilies. There was a tiny spot of blood on one of the petals. Dabbing his finger cautiously into it he flicked the tip of his tongue against the drop and his brow furrowed in concentration.  
  
Scanning the ground before him he smiled grimly as he saw some barely visible shoeprints in the dirt that had settled on the pavement. Straightening once more he tucked the lily into his belt and made his way carefully in the direction the shoe prints were pointed.


	3. "Hiding in plain view..."

_**Monday 8 AM**_  
  
Liliane fidgeted nervously, waiting with impatience for the store clerk to pass her the change. She’d been wandering aimlessly for approximately half an hour until her stomach began to protest and she decided to find something to eat. She had approached the nearest convenience store checking furtively for any sign of being followed before quickly slipping inside.  
  
Now she stood clutching her bagel close as the clerk finally clinked several coins into her hand. Nodding her thanks Liliane hurried from the store. Avoiding the lit area of the street she made her way to the only safe place she knew: The local park.  
  
It was a brightly lit area where kids could come and play in relative security. And in the clouded darkness that particular morning it was a comforting change to the dreariness of the rest of the city.  
  
There were several teenagers hanging around drinking as Liliane walked over to a bench and slouched down on it. Pulling her bagel from its brown paper bag she settled down to enjoy her meal the wonderful feeling of being free finally taking over.  
  
Sebastien yawned as he headed off the tour bus with David close behind.  
  
“Where are we going?” the ever jovial bassist bounced along beside Seb and pulled faces at him.  
  
“The convenience store…”  
  
“What for?”  
  
“Bagels, David.”  
  
David laughed and ran ahead of Seb but then stopped when he noticed someone sitting on a park bench nearby.  
  
“Whoa…look at the hottie…” he grabbed Seb’s arm and turned him around in the direction he was looking.  
  
A young woman with long honey-blonde hair was sitting on the bench finishing a rather large bagel. The two young men stood silently watching as she licked her fingers then crumpled the paper bag in her hand and just sat there looking down at the ground.  
  
“Come on…let’s go over and say ‘hi’,” David began to walk over before he had even finished speaking.  
  
Seb sighed and followed close behind just to make sure his friend didn’t do or say anything stupid. The girl looked up and a ghost of a frown passed across her face.  
  
“Hey, I’m David.”  
  
He grinned. The girl raised her eyebrows slightly and looked passed them then looked back at him.  
  
“Um…hi…” her voice seemed tense.  
  
Seb wondered why but didn’t say anything as David plonked himself down next to the girl.  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
“Uh…it’s…Jane…yes that’s my name.”  
  
The young woman smiled wanly. Seb had a strange feeling she wasn’t telling the truth but decided to let it go; it wasn’t really his business what her name was.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Jane,” David was irrepressible.  
  
He pulled ‘Jane’ in for a hug; she winced and pulled away. His lips turned down and she laughed a little.  
  
“I’m sorry…I guess I like my personal space,” she whispered.  
  
“Hey, that’s okay,” Seb finally spoke. “Oh, I’m Sebastien by the way.”  
  
“Nice to meet you,” the girl sounded slightly less nervous than a moment ago.  
  
David bounced on the bench.  
  
“Well, me and Seb have to go and get some bagels…then we gotta go back for sound check.”  
  
“Sound check?”  
  
“What David forgot to mention is that we’re in a band.”  
  
‘Jane’s’ eyes widened slightly.  
  
“The one that’s in town…uh…Simple Plan?”  
  
Seb nodded.  
  
“ _Oui_. That’s the one.”  
  
The young woman sighed.  
  
“I wish I could go…but…I don’t have any money…”  
  
David looked thoughtful.  
  
“You could come as my guest…”  
  
“Jeeze, David, we’ve just met her!”  
  
“So? It would be the nice thing to do.”  
  
‘Jane’ smiled.  
  
“Don’t go out of your way…”  
  
“No, no. Of course you have to come.”  
  
David bounced excitedly on the bench and the girl laughed softly.  
  
“Well, if it’s not too much trouble…”  
  
Seb shrugged.  
  
“Of course not. Here.”  
  
He pulled out a spare backstage pass and a pen scribbling down a small note on it.  
  
“Just give this to security tonight and they’ll let you in.”  
  
‘Jane’s’ eyes brightened.  
  
“Thanks so much…I guess…I’ll see you there then?”  
  
David nodded vigorously then looked at Seb.  
  
“We’d better go, man.”  
  
“Yeah, nice meeting you, Jane.”  
  
“Same to you.”  
  
The young woman watched as the two men made their way back to the store and disappeared inside. Sighing, she rose to her feet and made her way across the park to find somewhere to occupy her time before the concert.  
  
She disappeared from view not a moment too soon as Pierre strolled around the corner a deep frown marring his features. He had been wandering the streets since late the night before and was almost dead on his feet. Yet he didn’t even look tired.  
  
That was a testimony to his ability to cope in any situation, which helped him not only in his underground profession but also when he was touring with the band. They often travelled at the oddest times on the tightest schedules imaginable; he was used to it, and he was used to never letting people see how exhausted he really was.  
  
He stopped outside the store and absently glanced toward the glass door.  
  
At exactly the moment that Pierre’s eyes turned toward the door, Seb and David exited the store the latter already shoving half a bagel in his mouth.  
  
“Pierre?”  
  
Seb looked slightly surprised.  
  
Pierre looked up his dark eyes narrowing slightly but then they opened fully and he grinned.  
  
“What are you two doing?”  
  
“Eating,” David smirked. “What about you?”  
  
“Nothing, just about to go back for sound check.”  
  
Pierre pulled the bottom of his top down over his belt and fell into step with his two friends.  
  
“David invited some near stranger to the concert,” Seb muttered.  
  
Pierre glanced sideways at the bassist who had stuffed the other half of his bagel into his mouth.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah,” David swallowed and chuckled, “a hot chick, her name’s Jane.”  
  
“Jane, eh? You’ll have to introduce her to me.”  
  
“No way, she’s my girl!”  
  
Pierre laughed and rolled his eyes slipping his shades back on just as a small slither of sun peaked from behind the clouds covering the sky.  
  
“I still want to meet her.”  
  
“Go find your own chick.”  
  
Pierre slowed down slightly and muttered to himself.  
  
“Oh don’t worry…I will…”  
  
He watched as the two youngest members of the band padded ahead of him without looking back. He was grateful for that because he was beginning to really feel his exhaustion, and in just over eight hours they would be performing…again. Not that he didn’t enjoy it but he also had this job he had to do…and it wasn’t turning out as easy as he had thought.  
  
After finding the flower and the footprints he had followed them straight into a dead end alleyway. That really irked him. Even though it was very common for him to be misled by tracks somehow he had felt as if he had been thwarted by someone or something that shouldn’t have been capable of misdirecting him.  
  
Shaking his head at himself he jogged to catch up with the others just as they entered through the gates of the venue they were playing at that night.  
  
“Just hope Chuck isn’t pissed off again,” David was saying as Pierre caught up to them.  
  
“If he is Pat will deal with it,” he observed dryly.  
  
Seb and David looked at him.  
  
“You haven’t talked to Chuck since he got mad at you yesterday, have you?”  
  
“No, I haven’t been back; I didn’t even go to the party.”  
  
Seb lifted an eyebrow at that comment.  
  
“Really? Not that it mattered…you didn’t really miss much.”  
  
Pierre nodded slightly.  
  
“Yeah, thought as much.”  
  
The three of them continued on their way into the building in a companionable silence, none of them noticing the honey-blonde who snuck through the gate behind them and disappeared behind a dumpster to wait the day out.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **That Night  
MC, Grand Arena  
6:30 PM**_  
  
Pierre paced the length of corridor just behind the backstage area. He was extremely tense and he was already sweating. His black T-shirt clung uncomfortably to his torso and a trickle of sweat made its way from his hairline down the back of his neck.  
  
He scratched absently at the side of his face as he shifted restlessly.  
  
“Hey, Pierre!”  
  
He turned slightly as he saw Jeff and Seb walking down the hallway toward him. Nodding slightly he stepped back so they could get to the door. Seb went through with a little wave to him; Jeff halted and glanced at his friend.  
  
“You alright, Pierre?”  
  
“Yeah, peachy.”  
  
Pierre forced a smile that he knew he didn’t feel. His friend didn’t look convinced but something in his dark eyes warned him not to make any comment, and so Jeff just nodded and went through the doorway.  
  
The vocalist hung back several minutes longer just as David and Chuck came racing down the hallway. Chuck dashed pass Pierre without even seeing him, but the bassist stopped, glanced quickly at Pierre and then sensing the storm brewing beneath his outer calm just tilted his head at him then bolted through the door.  
  
As the door clicked shut behind David, Pierre stood staring at the lined wood of the barrier in front of him and leaned one hand against it. He closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten, then after taking a deep breath and letting it out he pushed the door open and strode out onto the stage to a cacophony of thousands of screaming fans.  
  
“WHAT’S UP, MONTREAAALLLLLLL!!”  
  
Pierre held his arms out and watched as the kids right down the front shoved and pushed each other trying to reach for the stage yelling and screaming.  
  
His eyes narrowed ever slightly on a girl who was standing right at the front of the mosh pit. She had long honey blonde hair and sparkling sapphire eyes; there was something familiar about her, but Pierre didn’t have time to dwell on that thought as the first chords of ‘Shut Up’ filled the arena.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The door to the backstage dressing room slammed hard behind Pierre as he arrived there before the others after the show. He peeled his top away from his powerful frame and threw it into his bag. Then he made his way over to the sofa and collapsed on it letting his head tilt back as he let out a groan of frustration.  
  
 _That fucking sucked…I was totally out of it up there…what the fuck is wrong with me…_  
  
He closed his eyes and remained unmoving even as the sounds of the others entering the room filtered into his ever conscious radar. He didn’t flinch from where he sat until he felt somebody flop on top of him. Without opening his eyes he growled low in warning.  
  
“Get the fuck off me, Desrosiers…”  
  
David jumped up as if he had been burned and turned his head to look at the older man.  
  
“Jeeze, Pierre…what’s got into you?”  
  
Chuck who walked in last noticed Pierre sprawled on the sofa and sensed the tension in him and grabbed the bassist, pulling him away.  
  
“I think you’d better lay off him…he looks pissed…”  
  
Pierre’s eyes snapped open at Chuck’s words and he slowly lifted himself off the sofa his arm muscles tightening as he moved.  
  
“It’s his own fault anyway,” Jeff muttered. “You totally sucked up there, Bouvier.”  
  
The vocalist stalked angrily from the room and brushed passed someone who let out a yelp of surprise as he clipped them accidentally.  
  
David dashed out just in time to see the back of Pierre’s head disappearing around a corner and then he saw ‘Jane’ leaning back against the wall a shell-shocked expression on her face.  
  
“Jane?”  
  
The girl looked up her blue eyes narrowed warily, but then they brightened and she smiled faintly.  
  
“David…I wasn’t sure if this was the right way…”  
  
“Hey, it’s alright…sorry about Pierre…don’t know what’s got into him…”  
  
‘Jane’ turned her head slightly rubbing at her arms.  
  
“That was Pierre? Oh, yeah…the singer…he seemed a bit…preoccupied up on stage…was he okay? He kept looking at me, y’know?”  
  
The bassist frowned.  
  
“I didn’t notice that…”  
  
“Maybe because you were too busy looking at her, yourself,” Seb peered around him and grinned at the girl. “Hey, there…you found us?”  
  
‘Jane’ nodded, smiling shyly.  
  
“What did you think of the show?”  
  
“It was amazing! I loved it. Even though…Pierre? Seemed distracted…”  
  
“Yeh, he sucked actually.”  
  
David smirked.  
  
“Haha, you really think you should say that about him?” ‘Jane’ queried.  
  
“Probably not, come in anyway. Hopefully, he’ll come back and be sociable.”  
  
‘Jane’ smiled faintly and stepped through the doorway as David and Seb backed into the room. They watched as she hesitantly perched on the edge of the couch and glanced at them.  
  
“So…what now?”  
  
The bassist flopped down next to her shifting around until he was comfortable. Seb grabbed a stool and set it close by perching on it.  
  
For some reason he reminded ‘Jane’ of an Emu, one of those Australian flightless birds kind of like an Ostrich. His hair fell into his eyes and his eyes were wide and bright. They were blue as well (unlike an emu) and there was warmth in their depths.  
  
David on the other hand reminded her of no one or no thing she had ever encountered in her lifetime. His dark emo-styled hair fell into light hazel eyes that seemed to be perpetually filled with amusement. He had a pale elvish face and his lips were turned up in a teasing smirk.  
  
He tilted his head at her.  
  
“Well, we could go out to town.”  
  
‘Jane’ hesitated. That could be a potential problem. She knew that _he_ often went out onto the town to go to clubs and get obnoxiously drunk. He had dragged her down there often when he had felt well disposed toward her. The thought of encountering him that night though was out of the question.  
  
She shook her head.  
  
“Okay then…you could come back to our bus…”  
  
The young woman frowned slightly; thoughts spun in her mind too fast for her to decipher. Leaning back on the couch she sighed heavily.  
  
“Or…we could just hang out here…” Seb suggested sensing her discomfort.  
  
She smiled in relief even though the emotion it conveyed to the two men was not the same one she was feeling. What they saw was a soft almost shy smile playing lightly across her lips. What she felt was a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in years.  
  
Closing her eyes slightly she leaned her head against the back of the couch. She was so relaxed that she looked as if she was going to fall asleep. David noticed this and glanced at Seb speaking quietly to him in French.  
  
 _“She looks wrecked…”  
  
“Oui…maybe we should just let her fall asleep here…”_  
  
Seb fidgeted with his pick that he had tucked into his pants pocket. The bassist nodded in agreement and flopped back next to her.  
  
After awhile they could hear her breathing deepen and decrease; she had fallen asleep just as they thought she would. David shifted down further on the couch and drifted off. Seb slid down off his stool and propped up his legs against the couch letting his head loll back onto the floor as he slipped into a drowsy state.  
  
The quiet sounds of the other guys retreating from the room and back to the bus did not disturb them and they remained like that ‘til morning.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Light drops of rain touched down on the top of Pierre’s hoodie. He stood outside the arena leaning against the wall staring up at the stars. His mind was swirling with myriad thoughts, some that were just random others that were important; yet, he was in no mood to sort them out.  
  
The gig had been off, in a bad way. He had kept forgetting the lyrics and for some reason his heart hadn’t been in it. His eyes had kept wandering to the young woman right down the front of the mosh and only now he realised who it had been.  
  
 _That slave…damn it…she was right there…but…there’s no way I could find her now…David was being an asswipe…poking me in the head with his picks…ugh…those lights are so goddamned bright…I need a ciggie…_  
  
Digging into his pockets he found that he didn’t have anything on him except for his wallet and cell phone and so decided to head back inside to see if he could find a packet of cigarettes.  
  
As he made his way back into the room where he had left his gear he halted when he saw Seb, David and a chick lying over the couches asleep. Frowning, his gaze settled on the young woman and a thought flashed through his mine rapidly.  
  
 _It’s her…what is she doing here…_  
  
Pierre blinked to clear his sights thinking maybe it wasn’t her…hoping in fact that it wasn’t her, because she looked so relaxed and he hated to disturb her. Before he could do anything though his cell phone began to vibrate in his back pocket.  
  
Casting one last look at the girl he walked out, grabbing his bag on the way, pulling his phone out and flipping it open to answer it.  
  
“Bouvier here…ah…yes…well…I think I’ve found her…”


	4. Never lie to a bounty hunter

**_A Week Later  
Monday 9 AM  
Apartment # 701_ **

Justin sat in front of the television the fly of his jeans undone. His cock stuck up through his boxers a small bead of precum on the tip.

He was slowly pumping his fist up and down its length as he watched a porn video on the large screen.

Groaning he shut his eyes trying to imagine that Liliane was in front of him giving him a blowjob.

_Damn…I hope he catches her soon…I can’t keep doing this…people will think I’m anti-social…_

Ever since she had escaped he had shut himself in his apartment and taken the phone off the hook so he could be alone.

The only calls made on the phone were by him phoning out. Like last night he had called Pierre to get an update on his slave’s whereabouts. He had said that he had found her and was now in the process of deciding his best course of action.

Justin was impatient but he knew if he wanted results he would just have to wait.

Shifting on the couch he slowed his movements and sighed in pleasure as he let his brain switch off and his hormones take over.

**_Same Day 11 AM  
Simple Plan Tour Bus_ **

“My name’s Jane,” the honey-blonde looked straight at Pierre as David and Seb glowered at him.

Pierre rubbed his face wearily.

“I could have sworn you were someone else…”

He glanced sheepishly at his two friends. When they had brought ‘Jane’ onto the bus Pierre had been less than welcoming to her. He had stared at her with an almost malevolent look in his dark eyes and he had called her Liliane to her face.

‘Jane’ had tensed up instantly, heart pounding in her head, but then relaxed lashing back at him confidently by saying that she had no idea who ‘Liliane’ was. When Pierre started to apologise she had waved it away with a smile that hid her relief.

“That’s quite alright…may I ask who Liliane is?”

He shook his head, “No one important…”

Which was true…she was a slave after all. He pulled himself to his feet and left the bus. David rolled his eyes and yelled after him.

“Sure she’s not! Probably some fan you banged ages ago!”

‘Jane’ giggled and settled down on one of the seats. Seb disappeared and David smiled at her.

“I’ll go grab a drink…you want something?”

“Just a water please.”

“Righto…one water coming up for beautiful girl!”

He danced off the bus and ‘Jane’ leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

_That was too close…but…why would the lead singer of Simple Plan know who I was…for what reason…maybe…maybe he knows my master…but why would he have any interest in me…I’m just a slave…_

She was snapped out of her thoughts as the bassist returned balancing too bottles of water. He threw one to her, which she caught gracefully. Pulling the cap off she sipped at it slowly. David pulled the cap off his bottle with his teeth and chugged the clear liquid down in two gulps.

“Whoa…that was good…”

‘Jane’ giggled again and put the water bottle down. Casting her gaze around the interior of the tour bus she took in the state of disarray that the small room was in. Clothes and other assorted items were strewn across the floor and seats, much to Chuck’s chagrin; he had spent copious amounts of time trying to get the others to keep it tidy.

Then she glanced back at David.

“So, what do you guys do when you’re not touring?”

“Not much really…hang around home…relax…I visit my girlfriend…so does Seb…Pierre I don’t really know what he does. He kinda has his own life when we’re not touring. I mean, he spends a lot of time with us…we all do…spend time with each other…we never get sick of each other. But he just disappears sometimes. Chuck hangs out with me and my girl a lot…Jeff practice’s his guitar…I don’t think he ever stops.”

David took a deep breath at the end of that spiel and ‘Jane’ chuckled at the fact that he had spoken so fast she had barely understood him, but she had caught the gist of what he had been saying.

Nodding she took another mouthful of water then replaced the cap and set it down on the floor at her feet. David leaned back and smiled at her like a kid at Christmas time.

“So, I don’t know much about you? Where do you come from…other than the park bench?”

‘Jane’ hesitated before replying, “I’ve…just moved here…yes, I haven’t been here for long. Looking for a job actually.”

“Really? Well, Pat needs an assistant for the merch booths, maybe you could help him?”

David bounced on the seat then flicked his tie over his shoulder. He waited as ‘Jane’ thought his offer over.

“Well, I’ve just met you…do you really think it’d be okay? I haven’t even met the guy.”

“Who hasn’t met who?”

Pat walked into the back of the bus just at that moment video camera in hand.

“Dude…do you always have to have that thing with you?” David laughed.

“Yeh…it’s stuck to my hand with superglue,” Pat quipped, and then he smiled warmly at ‘Jane’. “Hey there, I’m Patrick…doofus here forgot to introduce you…err…me.”

The young woman smiled reassuringly.

“Oh, that’s okay…I know your name now. Mine’s Jane.”

_It’s getting much easier to lie now…_

She held out a hand to Pat whose hazel eyes crinkled in pleasure. He noticed a small tattoo on the wrist of her proffered hand. It was a flower of some sort. Smiling he took her hand and squeezed it gently.

“Nice to meet you, Jane. Anyway…I think I heard David offer you a job helping me…”

“Yes, he did…I hope you don’t mind.”

Patrick grinned broadly.

“Of course not. I need the help actually…Timbo left…so it’s just me now.”

He sighed a little and rubbed a hand through his sandy hair.

“Pierre helps a little…but most of the time he’ll drop a box then disappear…”

“Yeah, after whacking you over the head first,” David smirked.

His friend rolled his eyes in response and then nodded to ‘Jane’.

“Well, don’t worry about it now…I’ll take you through everything tomorrow…for now I’m going to go find something to eat…”

The young woman nodded and leaned her head back against the seat. David slouched down next to her and the two of them fell into a companionable silence as Pat exited the tour bus.

* * * * *

Shadows played lightly over Pierre’s face as he laid on the ground just several metres away from the tour bus. He had the peak of his Adidas cap pulled over his face but was keeping a watchful eye on the door to the bus.

Pat appeared still balancing his video camera in one hand. Pierre smiled faintly as his friend almost fell down the steps but then sprang up lightly and padded passed him in a hurry to find something.

The vocalist laid his head back and closed his eyes breathing slowly.

One eye snapped open a moment later as the door opened again and David bounced off the bus with the girl, ‘Jane’, following him gingerly down the steps. Pierre’s one open eye narrowed as it followed the two of them as they waltzed passed his spot on the grass.

He sat up a little as he let a thought, which was swirling in his mind, solidify and settle in his immediate consciousness. He had to find out who this ‘Jane’ Doe really was, because he sure as Hell knew that she was hiding something…and he was certain he knew what it was.

In his profession as a bounty hunter he was always ever mindful of what the truth was. And he was capable of sniffing out a liar when he suspected that was the case. No one, no slave, had ever been able to trick Pierre into thinking they were something they were not, not once.

Sure he allowed them to think he had no idea whatsoever; yet, when it came to crunch time, he never budged an inch. They always got caught out in the end. And this ‘Jane’ would be no different. Except for one small problem…the band.

Never before had they been involved even minimally with any of his subjects. He had always made sure of that, taking jobs that were so far removed from the music scene that it was hard for him to even know how he had got them in the first place. But just as he had missed Liliane when he first tracked her, he hadn’t foreseen that she would actually come into contact with anyone in the band…but it looked like it had happened here.

It frustrated him that he had let the prospect slip pass him and he vowed not to let it happen again. However, in the meantime he would have to settle down and watch what took place. He couldn’t just spring in and launch an attack. He had to tread carefully, perhaps get to know the girl using the ‘friendly-lead-singer-trying-to-steal-the-chick-fan-from-his-friend’ guise.

That was something his friends could understand. They thought he was a regular womaniser so that wouldn’t be hard to emulate. Not that he was stealing her from anyone per se; after all it wasn’t like she was with anyone in the band, yet. He was going to have to make sure that that never eventuated.

Having come to a decision that he thought was workable he closed his eyes once more and allowed himself to drift off. He would make his first move that evening; for now, he just wanted to rest.

**_Same Day  
Indoor swimming pool  
5PM_ **

‘Jane’ sat on the edge of the heated pool her legs dangling languidly in the warm water. The warmth contrasted with the coolness of the blue lacquered tiles at the edge of the 25-metre lap pool.

Her attention was diverted from her quiet contemplation of the water’s still surface by the sound of a footfall close by. Glancing around she frowned at the presence of the lead singer leaning against the wall, watching her.

His dark eyes glittered with an unreadable expression and the smile on his lips was not quite friendly. She could not shake the feeling of something dangerous lurking beneath his charming exterior. Still, he had given her no real reason to be wary of him so she smiled hopefully toward him.

“Going to join us? David said he’d be along shortly.”

Shrugging, Pierre stripped off his t-shirt and let it drop to the ground beside him.

“Might as well.”

He smirked wryly as he sensed the girl trying not to stare at him. He was well aware of the affect he had on many of the fans when he removed his top. The most obvious reaction was their inability to tear their gaze from his well-muscled torso. He never flaunted his assets though, he didn’t want to seem pretentious, especially because that was something he really wasn’t. Anyway…if he were going to go for a swim he couldn’t do it with his clothes on; he would look like a complete idiot.

Still smiling he unbuckled his belt and slid the zip down on his jeans then as he stepped closer to ‘Jane’ he hooked his thumbs into the waist and pushed them down to the ground. She swallowed hard at the sight of him standing there in just his boxers and then quickly averted her gaze as he joined her on the edge of the pool.

“So, Pat’s offered you a job, eh?”

Pierre glanced at ‘Jane’ from the corner of his eye as he waited for her to answer him. She nodded slowly wondering how much he knew. Pierre kicked at the water with one foot.

“Where’re you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

‘Jane’ hesitated; Pierre picked up on it instantly and stored it away in his mind as she replied quietly.

“I’m not from here originally…”

 _A lie_ …Pierre nodded.

“I haven’t been here long,” the young woman cleared her throat.

She lifted her right hand and brushed a lock of hair from her face. At that instant Pierre noticed the tattoo on her wrist and he heard clearly something Justin had told him.

_Liliane has a tattoo of a lily on her right wrist. She must really love those flowers…yet it is a distinguishable mark…_

He blinked as she continued, “I told Pat I was looking for a job…y’know…to get money to buy my own place.”

_Another lie; you’re a slave you don’t need money._

Pierre nodded again and looked at her full in the eyes. ‘Jane’ felt an unexplainable chill course down her spine. It was as if he was reading her mind. She trembled slightly. He lifted an eyebrow.

“You cold? You should get in the water…it’s warmer in.”

‘Jane’ shook her head.

“That would involve me removing all my clothes, Pierre…and I’d rather not.”

“Why not?” Pierre asked his deep voice revealing none of his thoughts, making his question sound as innocent as possible.

Her hesitation this time was so long that he knew straight away she was trying to come up with some plausible answer other than the truth. He waited. When she finally answered he detected a slight tremor in her voice.

“Because I don’t like to. That’s all.”

“Why not?” he repeated, letting his tone shift slightly so it almost sounded teasing.

‘Jane’ unwittingly let her guard down and responded sharply.

“I don’t want you to see how bad I look.”

“What? What are you talking about? You’re really beautiful.”

Pierre was in fact telling the truth, she was attractive regardless of what she was. ‘Jane’ flushed and looked down.

“No I’m not…not at all…Justin says…”

As soon as his name left her lips she stopped and saw something flicker in Pierre’s dark eyes. A moment later it was gone, he grinned at her, shrugged then slid into the water with hardly a splash.

She fell quiet as she watched him swim down to the other end of the pool. He moved easily through the water with powerful strokes and strong kicks. ‘Jane’ couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin.

At the other end he hoisted himself out of the water, his arm muscles accentuated by the small beads of water sliding down them. Tiny droplets hung from the end of his hair tips, and he shook his head slightly so they sprayed out around his face.

Half out of the pool Pierre thought for a moment an idea forming in his mind then he glanced back toward ‘Jane’ and called over to her.

“You sure you don’t want to join me in the pool, Liliane?”

“No thanks!” she called back; she was about to say something else when she realised, with dawning horror that she had responded to her real name.

Pierre grinned wolfishly at her (the thought behind his expression: _You can’t lie to me and get away with it_ …), pulled himself completely from the water, winked and walked out of the pool area leaving her alone once more.

His parting shot sent a shiver of inexplicable terror through Liliane’s body.

“Catcha later, babe…”

* * * * *

Liliane lay staring up at the sky. She had opted out of staying on the bus with the band and lay gazing up at the stars deep in thought. She lay on the grass in exactly the same spot Pierre had lounged earlier that day. There was still a slight dent in the ground where his larger, heavier body had settled.

Absently the young woman played with a blade of grass as she tried to make sense of Pierre’s actions in the pool that day. Somehow he knew who she really was. Whether he knew anymore than that she had no clue. And he had given nothing away.

For all her training to be able to read every little nuance of body language from her master she had not been able to detect anything of Pierre’s true demeanour; she knew there was only one plausible explanation for that and she did not like the implications.

Bounty hunters never let anyone know what they were thinking or feeling. Doing so would be detrimental to their position. It would be like a tiger just brazenly walking out to grab its prey without properly stalking it first. The end result would be no meal.

Liliane shook her head and rubbed at her face.

_He can’t be a bounty hunter…he just can’t…but that would explain how he knew my real name…no…that doesn’t prove anything…it could just mean he knows my Master…ugh…then that would mean he knows I’m a slave…doesn’t mean he’s a bounty hunter…maybe he just knows my name…_

Thoughts careened in her mind and began to spiral out of control until she was too exhausted to think anymore and slipped into a restless sleep.

 


	5. Lessons from the past

_**2001 Warped Tour**_  
  
 _He had lost her. His tenth job…and he had lost her.  
  
Storming through the throngs of teen and pre-teen festivalgoers he attempted to catch a glimpse of her dyed pink and black hair. Her name was Jen and he had been tracking her for almost a week; she had arrived in Canada, from the UK, several days prior to the beginning of the Vans Warped Tour.  
  
She had not been his usual hit; she was not a runaway slave. No, she was in fact a lady of the night…a red lady…a hooker for want of a better word.  
  
At 22 years of age Pierre was well-known amongst the band fraternity for his ability to lure any girl fan to him of a night and then ensure himself a little bit of fun. The morning after he would tell of his exploits to the other band members and the firm belief that he was a ladies man would be once again set in concrete.  
  
Nothing could be further from the truth though and at that moment he wasn’t interested in getting between anyone’s legs. He had to catch Jen…or he was in dire straits. Headquarters had contacted him letting him know if he screwed this up his career as a bounty hunter was over. He couldn’t afford to let that happen.  
  
Casting his ever-searching gaze across the seething mass of people he finally zeroed in on his subject. Moving carefully through the crowd he closed in on her. Jen was standing with her back to him gazing toward the stage where Lagwagon were performing.  
  
Her head turned slightly and she frowned as her light hazel eyes settled on the young man standing behind her. He was dressed simply in a white singlet top and a pair of grey Dickie pants. Perched on his head was a red cap with the words Role Model emblazoned across the front.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him scornfully then looked back toward the stage.  
  
“Enjoying yourself…” Pierre leered into her ear as he moved a step closer.  
  
Jen stiffened and made to move away, but a strong hand closed around her right elbow and squeezed against a pressure point. She let out a yelp of surprise and turned her gaze back to the young man. His dark eyes were emotionless, his lips were pressed together in a severe line and his hold on her arm was painful.  
  
Swallowing hard, Jen tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t release his grip. He pulled her closer smiling dangerously at her then before she could protest he pressed a firm kiss against her lips. She shivered feeling pleasurable sensations course through her body.  
  
As she began to respond to him, he slid powerful hands down her sides rubbing them. In the back of his mind he knew that no one would take any notice of what he was doing, after all there were many couples in the crowd doing exactly the same thing as he was. Jen whimpered against Pierre’s lips and he chuckled deep in his throat.  
  
Without a word he pulled his lips away, took hold of her hand and lead her away through the crowds toward a little used area behind the main stage. No one would see or hear them there and that was essential for what Pierre was about to do.  
  
Forcing her onto the ground he moved to straddle her. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in fear.  
  
“Wh-what are you doing?”  
  
Pierre stared down at her coldly.  
  
Without responding he dug in his jeans pocket for his pocketknife. He felt a tremor race through Jen’s body and he smiled faintly. Flicking the blade out he slowly traced a line across her throat. She didn’t dare move.  
  
He sighed and moved the blade down to just above her collarbone and made a tiny incision. She gasped and tried to twist out from underneath him but he planted a firm hand between her breasts pinning her.  
  
As she squirmed uselessly he pulled out a small ID chip from his pocket and pushed it into the small cavity he had carved then deftly, using some thread that he had produced from another pocket, he stitched up the cut and lifted the collar of her top back over it.  
  
Patting it lightly he smiled grimly and rose to his feet, dragging her with him. Jen swayed on her feet as he supported her and spoke softly.  
  
“Now, I’m going to release you…in several days time someone will track you down and take you back to the UK where you belong…my job here is done.”  
  
Without another word he moved back toward the crowds and melted into them leaving his bewildered victim watching after his retreating figure._  
  
That had been five years ago. Pierre still remembered that job as if it had been yesterday. He’d learned a lot of things during that period of his career. The most important lesson he had learned back then was how to track his subject successfully and carry out whatever the job required in the time that he had allocated himself.  
  
Back then, he didn’t kill many of his subjects…most of the jobs back then had required him to track and then ID the particular subjects for more experienced bounty hunters to deal with later on. Another important lesson he had learned was to balance it with his ‘day’ job, so-to-speak; that had been a serious learning curve and it had taken him a while to master.  
  
But now, at 27 years of age, he was a force to be reckoned with.  
  
“Pierre, Oi! Anyone in there?”  
  
David tapped the vocalist on the top of his head, bringing him abruptly out of his thoughts. Pierre glowered at the bassist and pushed him away only to see the others standing there staring at him.  
  
“What? Do I have something on my face?”  
  
“Dude…no, you spaced out on us,” Jeff rolled his eyes in exasperation.  
  
Pierre glanced around remembering that they were on stage doing sound check.  
  
“Sorry…what were we doing again?”  
  
“Sound check, Pierre.”  
  
Chuck walked over and whacked him with a drumstick. He winced and got to his feet.  
  
“Oh, right…well, I’m done…”  
  
Before Pierre could walk away, his best friend stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.  
  
“Pierre…you haven’t even tested your microphone.”  
  
He shrugged, “I’m going to go check on Pat.”  
  
Sighing, Chuck let him go. Jeff and David both raised their eyebrows at him but he just shook his head and went to sit behind his drum set once more. They could do sound check without Pierre it was all the same to them.  
  
In the meantime Liliane and Pat were at the merch store setting up all the gear for that night’s show. Pat was chatting animatedly with the young woman punctuating his remarks with little laughs.  
  
“So, I said to Pierre…you’re an ass and then he beat me up…poor little old me…can you imagine it, Jane?”  
  
Liliane smiled faintly as she stacked up some Simple Plan caps on the table in front of her. Her mind was on other things, including the particular thought that kept coming back to her all the time.  
  
Ever since Pierre had called her by her real name she no longer thought of herself as ‘Jane’, she was Liliane again; she was finding it a challenge to remember to respond to the moniker she had given herself. But she did manage.  
  
All she knew was that if the vocalist ever called her by her real name again she would break down. She had no defences against someone like Pierre and she had realised that whilst she had lain gazing up at the stars the night before.  
  
Blinking she turned away from the table, and then froze. Pierre was striding across the floor, eating up the distance with his long legs. There was a purposeful expression on his face that faded and became a smile that flickered across his lips then held as he halted by the merch stand.  
  
Leaning his hands on the table he winked at Liliane then glanced over to Pat.  
  
“Hey there, how’s our little slave going?”  
  
Pat smirked not recognising the significance of his friend’s words. Liliane did though and swallowed nervously, trying to hide it by coughing slightly. Pierre glanced at her his eyes narrowing on her face.  
  
“Working hard there, ‘Jane’?”  
  
He put a hint of emphasis on her supposed name; she nodded vigorously. Pat scowled. He noticed that Liliane looked a little uncomfortable.  
  
“Don’t you have sound check? You’re disturbing my girl.”  
  
“Your girl, eh?” Pierre sneered in disdain. “Whatever, Pat. You couldn’t hold a girlfriend for two minutes.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? I can’t see you doing any better.”  
  
Pat glowered at him then turned to Liliane.  
  
“Jane, could you put these shirts over there.”  
  
Liliane couldn’t trust herself to speak without being sick so she grabbed them quickly, nodded and hurried away from them toward the storeroom that Pat had indicated.  
  
Once she was inside she leaned against the wall and let out a long, shuddering sigh. She could feel herself trembling violently. Closing her eyes tightly she tried to calm her racing heart.  
  
As soon as Pierre had appeared her heart rate had doubled and she felt as if she would faint. As a slave though she had learned well not to let her emotions show in front of other people. Only her master should ever see how she truly felt and only in private.  
  
Carefully she stacked the tops in one of the boxes then slowly sunk to the floor and let her head drop into her hands. She was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been before. This was not the fear that she had for her master…a fear borne of habit. No this was the fear of the hunted animal, a deep-seated terror that she had never felt before.  
  
On a level she wanted to believe that she was entirely wrong…that the signals…or lack thereof that Pierre was sending out were benign and of no threat to her. That was what she desperately wanted to be true. But deep in her inner psyche Liliane knew without a doubt that what she had surmised about Pierre was reality; even though she had no hard evidence to refute or back her theory, she knew.  
  
All she had going for her was the fact that he knew her true identity, or at least her name. She tucked her head between her knees and began to rock slowly keeping her eyes screwed shut.  
  
Memories of past incidents flashed unbidden in her fear filled mind, one such standing out so intensely that it pushed out all others…  
  
 _Liliane cowered on the floor at Justin’s feet. He was completely unclothed sitting on the end of the bed. His cock stood out straight and ready; he was waiting for her to service him as he expected. But she couldn’t do it. She hated it with every fibre of her being and wanted nothing to do with this part of her life.  
  
He motioned imperiously to her but she remained frozen in place. Justin growled angrily and got up and kicked her in the side sending her sprawling across the floor. She still remained unmoving as he proceeded to beat her unmercifully.  
  
He soon got bored though and climbed back onto the bed and lay staring up at the ceiling, ignoring her.  
  
Liliane lay on the floor whimpering softly in pain. Justin turned his head to look at her and glowered down at her prone form.  
  
“Have I ever told you about bounty hunters, slave?”  
  
Liliane glanced up through her eyelashes.  
  
“No, Master…”  
  
“Hmm…well, I think it’s time I did. They’re professionals you know…many of them track runaway slaves…”  
  
Liliane felt a chill at his words.  
  
“What do they do when they catch them, Master?”  
  
Justin stared at her coldly.  
  
“Kill them. So…perhaps that will stand as a warning to you…”  
  
She bowed her head, “Yes, Master…”_  
  
Not that the warning had worked. And now Liliane was in it up to her neck. Her arms tightened around her knees when she heard someone come into the storeroom.  
  
“‘Jane’?”  
  
It was Pat. She lifted her head up slowly and stared blankly at him. He came over and sat next to her.  
  
“What’s up? You’ve been in here for half an hour.”  
  
“I’m sorry…I lost track of the time…” her voice shook faintly.  
  
Pat peered closer to her and noticed that she looked extremely pale.  
  
“I think you should knock off…go and relax. I’ll finish up here.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Liliane glanced up at him.  
  
“Yes, I’m sure…go on. Pierre and the others have gone down to catering to get some food…maybe you should go join them.”  
  
Mention of the vocalist’s name sent a shiver down her spine but she just nodded and rose to her feet and walked out of the storeroom.  
  
Pat watched after. There was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on; she was an enigma. Shaking his head he checked the boxes then walked out after her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Tuesday 3:30 PM  
Catering**_  
  
Burping softly into her napkin Liliane leaned back on her chair and chuckled as David balanced a prawn cracker on his nose.  
  
“Hey… ‘Jane’, don’t you think I look like Jeff?”  
  
Pierre who was sitting opposite Liliane but ignoring her turned his attention to the bassist and cracked up.  
  
“Jeeze, David…you do…nose and all…except you’d need to shave your head to look like him completely. What do you think, ‘Jane’?”  
  
It was the first time he had spoken to her directly since encountering each other at the merch stand. She swallowed hard and forced herself to answer him.  
  
“Yeah, he definitely does…” Liliane avoided looking into Pierre’s face.  
  
She still hoped in her heart that he wasn’t what she thought he was. After all he was basically a nice person.  
  
She could tell how good a friend he was to the rest of the band members. When she had entered the catering area she had seen him talking with Seb about his current girlfriend who had just dumped him and left Seb in a mess. Pierre had been reassuring him that everything would be okay and that he would pull through.  
  
Then once they had settled down to have something to eat Liliane had watched as he had conversed amiably with Chuck and Jeff about random topics, laughing and making absurd comments to each other. And now he was talking with her and David; it was almost as if everything was normal. But she knew it wasn’t.  
  
She could feel him staring at her whenever she was talking to David. The bassist noticed and teased him mercilessly much to Liliane’s discomfort and Pierre’s annoyance.  
  
“You got the hots for her, eh?”  
  
“Don’t say that in front of her…”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“I have a boyfriend,” Liliane offered.  
  
Pierre smiled grimly when she said that.  
  
“Name’s Justin,” he added coolly.  
  
Liliane felt a chill at his words and glanced at him.  
  
“You mentioned him at the pool, remember.”  
  
Pierre’s lip lifted slightly as he looked back at her, face impassive. _And he knows I’ve found you…_  
  
Liliane wished she could read his expression. Nodding slightly she turned back to David.  
  
“That’s right.” _It’s not a lie… he’s just…not my boyfriend…_  
  
“Oh, too bad…I reckon you and Pierre would be perfect for each other.”  
  
David bounced on his chair.  
  
“Oh, shut up.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and smirked at the young woman.  
  
“Don’t mind him, ‘Jane’. He thinks any chick I meet is right for me.”  
  
 _Even though the only girls I’ve really met have either been just not my type…or they’ve been slaves…and well those ones have all ended up dead…_  
  
Liliane’s brow crinkled in thought but then smoothed out as she yawned and stretched.  
  
“I think I’m going to go have a lie down…”  
  
“You coming to the gig?” Pierre questioned, a thought passing through his mind. _She has to be there._  
  
Liliane nodded.  
  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  
  
She got to her feet and hurried out unable to block out the sense of Pierre’s piercing gaze following her.  
  
“See ya, ‘Jane’!” David waved after her then slapped Pierre upside the head jumped up and danced away.  
  
Sighing, Pierre levered himself from his chair and left, the others leaving shortly after to go and rest before the show that night.  
  
 _ **Tuesday 6PM  
Before the show  
MC Arena**_  
  
“One…Two…Three…testing…testing…”  
  
Pierre paced as he fiddled with the switch on his microphone. He was alone on stage deep in thought.  
  
It had been over a week since he had first figured out who she was. Not that it had taken any noticeable amount of time to discern that. He knew that Justin was getting impatient and as he hummed into his microphone he came to a decision.  
  
He would have to take action tonight, because he realised that if he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t get another chance; Liliane was becoming too cautious of him and he knew that was a recipe for disaster.  
  
Nodding to himself he continued to pace the stage. Pierre was so engrossed in his microphone and the floor in front of him that he didn’t notice Liliane standing in the wings watching him.  
  
She studied his tall frame slowly, paying attention to every little detail. His dark hair was styled into a faux-hawk the sheen of the gel obvious beneath the stage lights. For some reason, she noted, he wasn’t wearing his usual black attire. He was instead wearing a simple blue T-shirt and a pair of beige Dickie pants. It made him seem a lot younger than he was.  
  
As he turned to pace back in the other direction Liliane dropped her gaze to look at the back of his right leg. He had a tattoo on his calf: a black star with SP in it. She let her gaze travel back up his body and she glanced at his arms. Her eyes narrowed on a long red scar on his left arm close to the elbow. It looked to her as if it had been inflicted by an especially sharp fingernail…it probably had been.  
  
Blinking she stiffened as he turned and his eyes lifted to meet hers.  
  
“Hello, there, Liliane…” his voice was a low rumble as he padded toward her.  
  
She attempted not to respond but as he came closer she began to tremble. He smiled faintly an icy sparkle in his ebony gaze. He halted in front of her and she found she had to look up at him.  
  
“How…?” a whispered question, she wanted to know how he knew her.  
  
Without a word he reached out and took hold of her right hand and turned it palm up and indicated the tattoo. As soon as his flesh contacted with hers she felt sparks shoot up her arm. A trickle of sweat escaped her hairline and slid down her face.  
  
Pierre held onto her arm and stared at her. Then he grinned and stroked his thumb over the tattoo softly. Liliane jerked her arm away and took a step back from him.  
  
“I…I have to go help Pat…”  
  
“You do that…but I’ll be watching you…” Pierre stated calmly as if he was talking about the most innocent of topics.  
  
Liliane dashed backstage and Pierre turned back to the front gazing across the dark arena.  
  
Smiling quietly, Pierre dug in his back pocket for his cell phone and flipped it open.  
  
“Hello, is Justin there? Yeah…we have a gig tonight…yes…she’s here…meet me out the back afterwards…I’ll bring her to you…good…see you then…”  
  
He quickly shut his phone and made his way backstage. It was 6.30 PM, half an hour to show time.  
  
 _ **9 PM**_  
  
“Thank you everyone…you’ve been great! The best crowd EVER!”  
  
Pierre bounded down to the front of the stage and leaned down to slap the hands of several kids in the mosh.  
  
“Alright, this is going to be our last song for the night…I bet you can’t guess what song it will be…”  
  
“‘First Dates’, that’s what it is!” David laughed and shoved Pierre in the side.  
  
“Wrong! Guess again.”  
  
David strummed his bass as he chewed on his bottom lip.  
  
“Well, you have your acoustic…so maybe…maybe it’s ‘Time of Your Life (Good Riddance)’?”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes.  
  
“We’re Simple Plan, dude…not Green Day.”  
  
“Oh…well, I know the perfect song then…”  
  
“What would that be?”  
  
“Perfect…”  
  
“I know it’s perfect…but what’s the song called?”  
  
“Perfect.”  
  
“Yes, you already said it was perfect, but what is it called?”  
  
“PERFECT! Damn, Pierre, you’re stupid…” David rolled his eyes mockingly.  
  
“Oh! You mean the song is called Perfect! I gotcha buddy.”  
  
Pierre smirked then began to play.  
  
“Okay, everybody…you have to help me!”  
  
Liliane stood in the wings once again watching him. He had transformed from the intimidating man that she had grown accustomed to, into a jovial big kid. He obviously enjoyed performing for the throngs of people that came to every show.  
  
She watched as he turned to hand his acoustic back to Timbo at the end of the first chorus. A chill passed through her as his eyes settled on her for a moment. Then he winked, a dark promise in his eyes, and turned back to the crowd. Liliane stumbled back into Patrick who had walked up behind her.  
  
“Whoa…careful…” he caught hold of her.  
  
She pulled away.  
  
“I have to go…I’m sorry, Pat…”  
  
A terrible sense of foreboding had swept over her and she knew she had to leave. She didn’t know why, but something in Pierre’s expression signalled to her that she was in danger. Quickly she made her way down the long twisting corridors of the venue.  
  
After several minutes she realised that there was no way she could find her way out and stumbled into one of the storerooms and sank to the floor, hoping that after the show was over Pierre wouldn’t come looking for her.  
  
Closing her eyes she dropped off into a restless doze, letting her defences down and sliding down on the floor drifting until she was fast asleep.  
  
 _ **10.30 PM**_  
  
Justin paced outside close to the backstage door.  
  
 _Where the hell is he…he should be here…_  
  
He stopped pacing when he recognised the lead singer slipping out the door, and in his arms he had Liliane. She hung limp from his strong arms, wrists and ankles bound with cable ties, as he padded out to meet Justin who waited quietly. Pierre halted in front of him and grimaced.  
  
“She was hiding in a store room…I had to track her down…sorry for leaving you to wait.”  
  
As soon as the show had ended Pierre had absconded from the usual meet-and-greet and made his way into the labyrinth of corridors to find her. Patrick had told him she’d left in a hurry after he had asked him casually if he had seen her.  
  
Finally after half an hour he had slipped into a random storeroom and found Liliane lying fast asleep on the floor. As he had moved to restrain her, her eyes had flown open and she had made a futile attempt to escape him.  
  
He could see the look of utter despair in Liliane’s blue eyes as she had tried to drag herself away from him. She knew why he was there and what he was going to do.  
  
She had fought hard, begging him not to hurt her, until he was forced to knock her out by grabbing her around the back of her neck and squeezing the pressure point there.  
  
Once he was certain she would not wake again he’d picked her up and carried her out to where Justin was waiting.  
  
“Don’t worry about it…she’s okay?”  
  
“Yes, she’ll come around once you arrive home.”  
  
Pierre’s expression was cool. Justin relieved the bounty hunter of his burden and slipped him an envelope.  
  
“Your pay.” Justin hesitated. “The gig was good tonight.”  
  
“Thanks, I had a blast.”  
  
Pierre nodded then turned on his heel and walked back into the venue without another word. Justin shifted his slave’s weight in his arms and headed back to his car.  
  
 _I won’t ever let you out of my sight again, bitch…_


	6. Forget me not

_**Three Months Later** _   
_**Monday Morning** _   
_**Pierre’s Apartment** _

David rolled his head on his shoulders as he flicked a piece of popcorn at Pierre’s head.

“Oi! Don’t do that!” he grumbled as he flipped through an old issue of AP.

He stopped on an article on the band and, picking up a pair of scissors from the table in front of him, proceeded to cut it out tossing it on a pile of other articles he had already collected over the past few weeks.

“What ever happened to that chick?” David mused.

“Who?”

“‘Jane.’”

Pierre shrugged. He hadn’t really thought about Liliane. Truth be told, he had forgotten about her. Not that it mattered; as far as he was concerned she no longer concerned him. He had done his job. Therefore she was no longer his concern.

It had been three months and he hadn’t received any more calls from HQ, which he was grateful for; they had just finished their tour and all he wanted to do was relax.

“She was really nice…but I don’t think she really liked you all that much.”

Pierre shrugged again, effectively ignoring the bassist. He wasn’t in the mood to talk. David sighed and got to his feet.

“You’re no fun…I’m going to go find Seb.”

Pierre lifted his head slightly and watched as his friend flounced out of the apartment. Then, sighing he turned back to his magazines.

**_Guild of Dominant & Submissives, HQ  
Monday Afternoon_ **

Jen stood waiting impatiently for clearance. Her papers that described her profession and her reason for being in Canada lay in front of the Grand Master and he was perusing them seriously. It had been five years since the last time she had been here and there was someone she had to meet.

“So, Miss Bridges…you’re here to see Pierre?”

“Aye, it’s important.”

“I don’t doubt that, young lady but I am wondering why?”

The Grand Master peered over his spectacles at her. She sighed heavily and rubbed at a tiny scar just above her collarbone. The chip that had been planted there was long gone.

“There’s…something I need to know…and I’m hoping he may be able to assist me…he is the best bounty hunter in Canada, is he not?”

Jen smiled winningly at the official who nodded in confirmation.

“Oui, he is one of the best…alright…I’ll scan his details into your folio and let him know you’re on your way to see him.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Jen nodded and retrieved her papers.

Just as she did there was a commotion in the doorway and they both turned to see a young man dragging a young woman into the room. The woman had long honey-blonde hair that was dishevelled and looked as if it hadn’t seen a brush or comb in months. She was fighting feebly against the man’s grip as he hauled her toward the Grand Master.

Jen moved away as they halted in front of the table.

Justin shoved Liliane to her knees in front of the Grand Master and then spoke in clipped tones to him.

“Sir, I’ve had enough…I don’t want her anymore…ever since your best returned her to me she has been even more disobedient and disrespectful. What would you suggest I do with her?”

The Grand Master rose and stepped around the table to stand over the quaking slave. Liliane kept her eyes lowered to the floor. Tears spotted the linoleum beneath her as she cried in fear.

He tilted her chin up with one hand and gazed deep into her eyes. A small whimper escaped her. Straightening the Master turned his head to look at Jen.

“If you are going to see Pierre…could you do me a small favour?”

“Of course, sir.”

Jen was no longer a red lady. Her life had taken a turn after she had encountered Pierre. The Guild had taken her under their wing and trained her to follow the footsteps of each bounty hunter and keep a tally of their jobs.

She knew about Liliane’s case and how quickly that it had been resolved. But now it looked like there was more going on and Jen was ready to do anything she had to secure her position.

“Tell him we are in need of his expertise…I hear his band is taking a short hiatus…therefore he will be free. Time will not be an issue for him.”

Turning to Justin he explained what he had in mind. The young man was pleased once the Master had finished.

“So, you will keep her here in the meantime?”

“Oui, you may leave her here with us.”

Liliane lifted her eyes to her master’s then looked at the Grand Master. He motioned to two men who had just entered the room.

“Take her away…” glancing at Jen he added, “Pierre will be here in the next few days to deal with her.”

Jen nodded and exited. Liliane sobbed as the men took of hold of her and lead her away.

**_Pierre’s Apartment  
An Hour Later_ **

“I’ve seen you before…”

Pierre placed a glass of water in front of the young woman who was perched on the edge of his sofa. Jen smiled faintly as she picked it up and took a sip.

She swept long dyed blonde hair out of her face and gazed at the man standing before her. Pierre hadn’t changed much since the last time she had seen him. He had matured, but he still had that boyish yet perilous charm she remembered.

He raised an eyebrow at her in question and quietly she turned down the neck of her top, exposing the tiny scar just above her collarbone. Recognition flashed across Pierre’s face and he smiled pleasantly.

“Ah…you were my tenth.”

“Aye, that’s right.”

“I didn’t recognise you…your hair was black and pink then.”

“I changed it.”

Jen clasped her hands in her lap. She seemed nervous.

Pierre sat opposite her and leaned forward. She absently took in his seemingly relaxed presence. He was wearing a simple white shirt and a pair of blue denim jeans. His dark hair was mussed as if he hadn’t had time to pay any attention to it. And there was several days’ growth of stubble on his jaw.

She glanced at the table he had been sitting at when she’d entered his apartment; there were magazine articles strewn all over the table. Glancing back at him she knew she had to speak so breathing deeply she steeled herself and plunged straight in before she lost her nerve.

“I need to know something…” she started hesitantly.

Pierre nodded reassuringly and she breathed in deeply. She had to keep reminding herself she was now on his side, working for the same people.

“When…when you came after me…that one time…what exactly were you feeling…was it…was it personal?”

Pierre could sense her apprehension. He knew why she was asking. Now that she was an agent for the Guild she had to know if she could trust him.

Sighing he rose to his feet and moved away from her to stare at a picture on the wall. Jen waited quietly not wanting to rush him. Finally he turned back to her, a frown marring his handsome face.

“It never is…I don’t think I ever feel anything when I do a job. It…never really occurred to me to feel anything, really.”

He hesitated.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just…needed to know…that’s all…I mean…I’ve heard about some bounty hunters…they abuse their position…and they enjoy it…”

Pierre shook his head.

“It’s just a job, Jen. I’d never do that…no matter how much it seems that I enjoy it…it’s usually a front.”

“So, you’d never…try and force…”

“No, no way…if it’s a slave, I’m not even permitted to do that…after all…that’s their Master’s prerogative.”

He rubbed a hand through his hair.

“I just do what I’m paid to do, and that’s the end of it.”

Jen nodded and relaxed.

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome…now, you have another request for me don’t you?”

Jen looked at him in surprise.

“How did you know?”

Pierre smiled faintly sitting in front of her again.

“I just do. That’s all. I make it my business to find these things out…so, what is it you want?”

Jen crossed her legs and looked at him thoughtfully.

“Well, it’s what the Guild wants, actually. Do you remember Justin and Liliane…?”

* * * * *

“Chuck, I can’t…I have to be somewhere…look I know we’re supposed to be writing for our third album…but you’re going to have to start without me. Chuck…I’m sorry…just give me a couple of weeks…fine…but don’t forget…without me…there is no Simple Plan.”

He hung up abruptly and stood staring at the phone wishing his best friend would ring back. He hated when they were arguing, it was the worst feeling in the world.

Rubbing his face wearily he grabbed his bag where it lay half closed on the sofa. Checking to make sure he had everything he grabbed his car keys and exited the apartment.

**_Guild of Dominant & Submissives, HQ  
Thursday 10 AM_ **

The Grand Master glanced up as he recognised the tall, dark-haired, young man who stood in the doorway of his office.

“Pierre, so good of you to come.”

Pierre walked over and shook the older man’s hand.

“It’s always a pleasure, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Jen didn’t tell you?”

The Master settled back in his chair and blinked behind severe oval framed spectacles.

Pierre smiled crookedly.

“Oui, but I want to hear it from you, sir.”

“You don’t trust her?”

“It’s not that…it’s more that perhaps she doesn’t trust me. And didn’t tell me everything I needed to know.”

The Grand Master chuckled at Pierre’s cautiousness.

“Ah, Pierre…you have been at this job for too long to need to worry about that. All you need to know is what she informed you of. Justin has placed Liliane into our custody and we need you to deal with her…you know what I mean by that.”

The bounty hunter paced over to a large glass cabinet in the corner of the office and stared intently at its contents. There were several antique bowls settled on small wooden stands and each one looked brittle as if one breath would break them. Pierre contemplated them for several long moments as the Master waited patiently for his response.

“I don’t normally…take those particular jobs. The last time…it placed so much stress on me that I had to take a break…from everything including the band.”

Pierre turned to gaze earnestly at the Grand Master.

“If you can promise me that this will not delay my already booked schedule…we have to start writing for our third album, you understand?”

The Master nodded.

“I am fully aware of your other commitments. This will not be too difficult for you. After all you already know Liliane, at least a little. And you know what this job entails. Are you willing to see it through? Justin will pay you well.”

Pierre twisted at the black hand warmer on his right hand.

“It’s not the money. I don’t need that…it’s just…come to think of it she intrigued me a little. And it’s quite obvious that she hates her master with a vengeance. Something needs to be done about that…no slave should ever be allowed to get away with such blatant defiance…” he was almost talking to himself as he finally said, “So, okay…I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Oui, I haven’t got anything better to do…Chuck would beg to differ though…not that what he thinks is important.”

Pierre nodded to himself then moved to take the seat opposite the Master.

“No. I will do it. Otherwise if I don’t…”

“There is no one else I would ask, Pierre. You are the best we have.”

The experienced bounty hunter turned inward for several long minutes and the Grand Master remained silent not wanting to disturb him. After awhile Pierre’s gaze focussed externally once more and he shifted on the chair; he was ready.

“Bring her here…”

The Master acquiesced turning to press a small button under his desk. Then he settled in his chair and the two of them waited for Liliane to be brought to them.

* * * * *

“No…let me go! You can’t do this to me!” Liliane screamed at the two guards as they hauled her into the Grand Master’s office.

She didn’t notice Pierre or the Master as she fought desperately for them to release her. Pierre rose slowly to his feet and stepped forward, motioning to the two men.

“Let me see her…”

The guards dropped her to the floor and backed off warily. They knew what the bounty hunter was capable of and didn’t want to stand in his way.

Pierre appraised the young slave carefully as he moved closer to her. Liliane remained huddled on the floor; she was wearing a flimsy blue nightgown and her long hair was a tangled mass of honey blonde locks. A tremor of fear shuddered through her body.

Hunkering down on his haunches in front of her, Pierre reached out and rested his fingertips to her chin lifting her face to his. Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes, the normally bright sapphire hue replaced by a dull grey light.

Recognition flashed in her eyes as they met the bounty hunter’s dark stare.

“Pierre…?” her voice was weak but her tone lifted in a question.

Pierre’s eyes narrowed and he nodded firmly.

“Oui…” he stroked his thumb at the corner of her mouth and felt her lips tremble at his touch.

“Don’t speak,” he cautioned.

Liliane lowered her eyes to stare at the floor. Pierre studied her slowly letting his eyes travel down her body then back up to her face. He took in every little detail, every blemish to her skin, and all the tiny nuances of emotion that showed in her posture. Rocking back on his heels he cast a look toward the Master.

“I’ll take her back to my apartment with me…is there anything I need?”

“No, just her…she had nothing with her, just the clothes she’s wearing.”

Pierre nodded and then hooked strong hands under Liliane’s armpits lifting her to her feet. She shook in his grip and glanced at him fearfully. He smiled reassuringly at her.

“Come on…I won’t bite.” _Much_ …

Pierre watched as she breathed in deeply and nodded slightly and took several steps to stand beside him. He considered her slender form standing beside him for a moment noticing vaguely that she was a lot shorter than he had realised. The top of her head only just reached his shoulders.

Nodding at Liliane he closed a hand around her right arm, feeling her tremble a little.

“It’s alright,” he whispered softly to her. _No need for me to tell her otherwise…just have to keep her settled for now._

The young woman relaxed at his soothing tone and, smoothing her nightgown with his other hand, he turned back to the Grand Master.

“Well, we’ll be off then.”

They shook hands once more and then Pierre steered Liliane out of the office and back down the corridor to the main foyer.

As he was ushering her toward the main entrance he heard someone call out to him.

“Hey, Pierre!”

Turning his head he recognised one of the few female bounty hunters that worked for the Guild. She was striding toward him a sly smile on her lips. Hair the colour of flames, framed her face and serious brown eyes locked onto his tall frame as she came closer.

She wore a pair of tight black jeans and black top with a red leather jacket slung over one shoulder. The pair of glasses she wore were the latest in slimline fashion, red and sharply angled accentuating her obvious intelligence.

“Well, if it isn’t Nissa the ‘Red’. Been a long time.”

Pierre grinned laconically, reaching out to clap a hand to the woman’s shoulder whilst retaining a firm grip on Liliane’s arm. Nissa Norris cast an expert eye over the young slave, who shivered at her fleeting look, then glanced back at Pierre.

“Yes…so long I didn’t realise you were into the whole…retraining slaves business.”

“I’m not…this is just a special favour I’m doing for the Master. And it’s only been a year since we last spoke, Norris,” he added sharply.

Nissa flicked a lock of short red hair out of her eyes and snorted.

“Only a year? It seems much longer than that. We really must catch up sometime.”

Pierre grimaced; catching up with Nissa was the furthest thing on his mind at that moment.  
Indeed the thought had never occurred to him. She was his rival, always had been and always would be. Nissa had chalked up almost as many hits as he had and he was in no way inclined to let her surpass him.

The fact that she was female made her accomplishment all the more bitter for him. He had the old-world view that women couldn’t do as well as men because they were the weaker gender and he wasn’t in a hurry to have her prove him wrong. Nor did he want to spend time with her and have her making jibes about his profession in the Guild and as a singer.

“Well?”

Nissa quirked an eyebrow at him, her brown eyes sparkled enticingly at him with a hint of competitive malice in their depths.

Shaking his head he made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat and without saying anything else, pushed Liliane out the door ahead of him, leaving Nissa glaring after them.

After they had disappeared from view she turned to the main reception area to pick up her next assignment and then left the way she had come not giving Pierre another thought.


	7. Falling

**_Pierre’s Apartment  
Sunday 3 AM_ **

“Seb…it’s three in the morning…don’t you think you should get some sleep…oh…I see…hang on a minute…”

Pierre levered his body into a more upright position in bed and rubbed absently at his left leg as he shifted the phone against his ear. He glanced casually at Liliane’s slumbering form on the single mattress by his bed, not really taking notice of her.

“Yeah…I’m comfortable now…what’s the problem? Oh…jeeze…Seb…it’s been…the nerve…what a bitch.”

Liliane stirred at Pierre’s voice and her eyes opened blearily. Turning her head to the left she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed twirling the phone cord tensely around his right wrist. His brow was creased deeply; something was bothering him.

Altering her position so she could watch him without being too obvious, Liliane settled down on the mattress once more. Pierre’s gaze lifted slightly and focussed sharply on her for a moment. Grimacing he spoke into the phone.

“Seb…I have to go…look…just try and ignore her…you could block her number from your phone…yes…you can do that. Get Chuck to organise it…” he yawned. “Yeh, a little…look I’ll see you guys at the studio in a week…I still have things I have to do. Yeah, see ya, buddy.”

Hanging up Pierre turned his eyes to the young woman who had tucked her face beneath one of her arms attempting not to look as if she had been watching him.

Blinking he stretched and moved closer to the mattress that Liliane lay on. She shivered slightly, pulling her legs up to her chest and curling up as if she was trying to protect herself.

Sighing, Pierre slid an arm over her back and under her body lifting her up into a kneeling position.

“Wh-what are you doing…?” her voice quavered.

The bounty hunter pressed a single finger to her lips and shook his head sternly.

“Don’t say a word…”

She swallowed her protest and bowed her head not daring to meet his eyes. Pierre studied her silently thinking about what he had to do; then he rose to his feet once more and got back into bed.

“Go to sleep…busy day tomorrow,” he informed Liliane then shuffled down under his sheets and promptly fell asleep.

Liliane found it more difficult to fall asleep and had to shift about on the mattress until she was comfortable.

For some reason Pierre had chosen to trust her not to try and escape and had decided not to restrain her in anyway. That had surprised her because if he had been Justin he would have chained her down.

Perhaps it was because the bounty hunter was confident of her fear of him that he knew she wouldn’t risk anything to get free. That theory was a plausible one in Liliane’s mind. She knew she had every reason to fear him. After all her Master was paying him to teach her a lesson.

She had no idea what Pierre was going to do to her, and she had no desire to find out. She had already been with him for two full days and he still had made no move to do anything to her. Even so, Liliane just wanted it to be over, so she could go back to Justin.

She would give anything to be back with him…better the evil she knew than the one she didn’t, even though she would much rather be a free bird than a slave…but that was not a choice that she had.

As she lay there, still on her back, unwelcome thoughts rose to the surface of her mind. The two guards at the Guild had taunted her cruelly, suggesting that Pierre would kill her. Liliane shuddered at the notion; she knew that it was possible, unlikely but possible.

She held onto the fact that Justin had never mentioned the likelihood of her dying. He didn’t want her dead, that much she knew; but he was unpredictable and anything could make him change his mind. And she could tell that Pierre would have no qualms whatsoever in taking her life. He’d probably done it many times before.

Breathing deeply the young woman forced all those feelings from her mind and eventually slipped into a dreamless slumber.

* * * * *

**_10 AM_ **

Short spikes of black hair lay scattered over the bathroom floor. Pierre stood in front of the mirror arms braced on the edge of the sink. Liliane was standing to his side electric razor in hand. She was very carefully shaving his hair.

He leaned further over the sink so she could reach the top of his head. Liliane was extremely conscious of Pierre’s dominant presence as she leaned close to him balancing close as she finally shaved off the last gelled spike of hair.

As she moved to step back the bounty hunter shifted deliberately so the edge of the razor nicked the skin of his scalp. He winced then whipped around fast seizing her roughly by the arm and twisting it. Liliane yelped in shock and pain and dropped the razor that was still humming and spun forgotten on the floor as Pierre shoved her harshly against the sink.

A sob of terror escaped the frightened slave’s throat as he leaned his muscular frame against her smaller one.

“Please…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…don’t hurt me, please…”

Liliane’s pupils were dilated fearfully and her breath came in short gasps. Pierre’s eyes narrowed ominously on his charge.

Leaning close he glared down at her not speaking, crushing her slender figure against the hard edge of the vanity. A whimper let him know he was hurting her, but he didn’t care, she had to learn her place and if that meant pain for her then so be it.

Turning slightly he pressed in firmly so his hip was grinding into her groin. Another sob slipped from Liliane’s control and she blinked back tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

“Please…” she repeated helplessly. “Don’t hurt me…I won’t do it again…”

Pierre gazed silently at her slowly sliding a firm hand up her side feeling her clammy skin against his cool, dry palm. He felt her skin shiver involuntarily at his touch and he smiled faintly. Then just as suddenly as he had grabbed her he released her and watched as she slumped to the floor, quivering uncontrollably.

Liliane huddled into herself; she could still feel the sensation of his strong hand against her side even though he was no longer in contact with her. Pierre stepped away from her bending down to pick up the shaver and switching it off, placing it on the bench.

“Get up,” he snapped at her then turned and strode out of the bathroom.

After taking several moments to compose herself Liliane scrambled to her feet and hurried after him.

Pierre was sitting on the edge of his bed studying his feet whilst smoothing one hand over his newly shaved hair. Liliane hesitated in the doorway for a long moment, taking in his appearance. His camo Dickie pants hung on his hips the front bunched up as he leaned on his knees; the edge of his blue silken boxers peeked over the waistline. He was topless and he absently scratched at his chest, flecks of black hair scattered across his skin.

After waiting several minutes longer Liliane moved into the room. Pierre glanced up then as she came to kneel at his feet. He sighed deeply and studied her thoughtfully.

“What am I to do with you, eh?” he finally broke the silence.

The young woman shifted nervously on her knees; his question didn’t require a response so she remained quiet.

Pierre frowned; there didn’t really seem to be anything wrong with Liliane’s behaviour. In the short time she had been with him, she had always been obedient. The way Justin had spoken about her had made him think she would have been a lot more flighty and hard to control. Perhaps she was only being on her best behaviour because she was afraid of him. Still he had to test her reactions to certain situations; getting her to shave his head was one of them.

Pierre knew of many slaves who would baulk at the idea and would be worried about cutting their masters. Yet, she had been proficient, she could have been a hairdresser in another life. Taking deliberate action Pierre had caused her to cut him enough to rouse his supposed anger.

She had responded exactly how he had expected. Her fear of him had been blatantly obvious, dilated pupils and the slight sheen of sweat on her brow a clear indication. The words she had used were precisely the ones that would normally placate any reasonable Dominant. Yet, he had a notion that, in Liliane’s case, that was not the way things panned out normally.

As a bounty hunter it was his responsibility to study the personality of his client, because the information he gleaned from the client’s profile could be essential in dealing with the target. Pierre had ascertained that Justin was an impatient man given to violent rages. It was only logical to extrapolate that trait to an easy willingness to take out any rages on his slave.

The first night Liliane had been there Pierre had watched as she showered; there was a large flower-shaped bruise under her right breast and several smaller bruises spotted across her body. He didn’t need an imagination to know where they had come from. She hadn’t told him how they had happened, but he knew as the days passed he would find out so he didn’t press her.

Lifting a hand Pierre rubbed at the tiny scratch on the back of his scalp; it stung a little but not enough to be of any concern. Liliane noticed though and shifted before speaking up haltingly.

“Do…you want me to put something on that scratch…”

The bounty hunter frowned down at her extremely aware of her kneeling close to him. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but when she had been shaving his hair, her lithe body had been pressed close against him and he had been seriously aroused. He couldn’t allow her to distract him anymore than she already had and so he shook his head abruptly.

“No. It’ll be fine.”

“But…”

Pierre stared icily at her. The look in his eyes was enough to silence her. She lowered her gaze once more.

Staring down at her he was about to speak when the phone rang. Scowling, Pierre lifted himself up off the bed and padded passed Liliane and lifted the phone off the hook.

“Bouvier here…oh…yes…things are going good here…you what? Oh…okay…look you know I have to go back in the studio with my band at the end of this week…right…so you’re going to be gone for how long? Right…okay…that’s fine…I can keep her…right…see you in two weeks then.”

Hanging up he glanced toward the young woman who had a look of apprehension in her eyes.

“That was your master…he’s going away tomorrow for two weeks. So, you get to stay with me for the duration.”

Pierre watched as the slave’s eyes filled with horror.

“Hey. It’s not that bad…” his eyes narrowed calculating on Liliane’s face. “You won’t get beaten up on for two weeks…” he let his voice trail off standing up and walking out of the room leaving her to wonder at what he meant.

Closing her eyes tightly she tried not to think what that meant for her. In one way it was a good thing; she hated Justin and even though shortly before she had preferred the idea of being with her Master, she now knew that being with him was not an option that she wanted.

After all that was why she attempted to escape him all the time…wasn’t it?

* * * * *

**_9 PM_ **

Liliane lay on her stomach on Pierre’s King-sized bed, wrists bound securely to the bedpost. Pierre lay to her left one large, warm hand resting squarely in the small of her back, which was bare; he had stripped her only moments ago. He was deep in contemplation, slowly caressing the hollow above her hips with the tips of his fingers.

Holding her breath, Liliane was in a quandary. Having no clue as to what the bounty hunter was going to do she wouldn’t allow herself to freak out. It wouldn’t help her.

Thoughts of the rest of that day filled her mind. Pierre had kept her close most of the day, not allowing her out of his sight the whole time. He had been busy, on the phone a lot. He’d even spoken with Justin briefly. She had no idea what about though.

She stopped thinking then; closing her eyes she remained still as she felt Pierre’s hand slide down to rest on her buttocks. Slowly he smoothed his palm over the soft curve of her butt cheek. The mattress dipped slightly as Pierre shifted closer.

“Look at me,” his voice was a husky whisper.

The young woman obeyed, turning frightened blue eyes to his cold stare. He considered her for a moment. Then spoke again.

“I shouldn’t do this, you don’t belong to me…but your master has told me he wants me to do anything in my power to teach you your place…so…I’m going to break my number rule…”

Pierre slid his hand further over her bottom and then under her lifting her slightly reaching for her most private part of her body. He felt his way to the soft downy pubes between her legs and rested his hand there. A shiver coursed down Liliane’s spine at the contact and she felt a moistening between her legs. Unbidden she was becoming aroused.

Through her fear she felt another sensation welling inside her. A vague detached part of her was reacting to the hunter’s touch as if it was commonplace, as if he had the right to touch her and she had the right to enjoy it.

That same part of her was thinking of the hunter in the way any normal woman would…anyone who knew him only as Pierre of Simple Plan; there was an obvious attraction there. The rest of her was extremely tense and concentrating only on her immediate surroundings and her emotions. They were in turmoil.

In contrast, Pierre was feeling nothing at all. He explored every part of her body with his hand, inside and out with an almost clinical approach. Still he was only human and a miniscule section of his brain was crying out to be heard. That part of his brain happened to belong down below and was uncontrollable at the best of times.

Attempting to ignore the signals it was sending him he continued to probe within the folds of the slave’s nether region softly. Liliane moaned softly and shifted, not to get away, just to ease into a more comfortable position.

Pierre removed his hand and rolled onto his back to contemplate the ceiling fan that was whirring slowly above them. Tucking his hands at the back of his head he closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again, sitting up and proceeded to remove his clothes. He was aroused beyond his control and he knew he had to do something about it.

Glancing at Liliane’s prone form his cock began to harden in his pants and as he pushed them down and off it popped out through the hole in his boxers.

_Right…I’m going to have to do something about this…I could do it myself…but…well…I can’t stick to the rules all my life…no…admit it…you’re attracted to her…no way…yes…alright…just this once…_

Pierre had the sudden sensation of looking at himself as if he was staring into a mirror and seeing himself for the first time. Shaking his head he tried to dispel the unsettling thoughts that clamoured for attention.

His whole life he had never had a girlfriend…but as a bounty hunter he couldn’t afford to have a personal life. Actually as a guy in a band having a personal life was almost impossible, but a bounty hunter couldn’t have a partner, unless you counted colleagues, which he never did. The only woman who he knew in the profession was Nissa, and that was a whole other ball game entirely.

Gritting his teeth he forced his thoughts aside as he focussed his attention on Liliane who still lay trembling next to him. Murmuring softly in French under his breath he flipped her over onto her back and straddled her letting his large member lie nestled against her pubes.

He could see fear in her eyes, yet there was also a hint of arousal in their depths. He watched silently as Liliane’s gaze travelled to his cock and widened slightly as they settled. She quivered and her lips parted a little.

Pierre quirked an eyebrow at her and somewhere she found her voice.

“You can’t…do this…”

“Hush…” he slid a hand along her right thigh stroking almost tenderly.

“You’re…you’re too big…” Liliane’s voice shook.

Pierre frowned at her protest. Glancing down at his groin he thought for a minute. Judging by the slave’s words Justin had to be smaller than him; he would have to go easy on her.

_What the hell? She’s nothing but a slave…why go easy on her?_

Subconsciously, the hunter’s attitude toward her had softened. If someone had asked him why, he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a plausible reason.

Looking down at her he could see the bruising he had noticed days before and decided that now would be the best time to inquire about them. Liliane was in no position to refuse him an answer.

Pressing a hand to the largest contusion beneath her breast he watched as she winced.  
“How did this happen?” Pierre’s tone was harsh.

Liliane turned her head to the side and swallowed nervously.

“I…I can’t say…”

“Why not?”

“Master said…not to tell…”

“Not even another Dominant?”

“You’re a hunter…”

“I’m a Dominant…any male who works for the Guild is.”

The slave gulped and shivered beneath him ever conscious of the weight pressing down on her.

“Tell me.”

A command.

“He…did it to me…when he…when he…raped me…” Liliane sobbed.

Pierre’s expression hardened.

“You accuse your master of assaulting you?”

She cringed.

“You wanted to know…sir…”

Pierre lifted his hand sharply and she flinched in anticipation of getting hit. Instead he brought his hand back down and gently caressed her face. The words he wanted to say remained locked behind his lips. She was a slave and had no right to hear his views on certain statutes handed down by the Guild.

_No master should ever sexually assault their slaves; they may be their property…but in that regard they (the slaves) have no choice in the matter and henceforth should be handled properly._

The Guild would hear from him. Until such time he decided to take action he needed to relieve himself.

Carefully putting all thoughts into the back of his mind he turned his mind to the situation at hand. Smiling gently he slowly rubbed his cock over Liliane’s mound.

She gazed up at him waiting on bated breath. Then she gasped and pushed against him involuntarily as the head of his cock finally penetrated the folds of her pussy.

Grasping her hips he pinned her as he steadily entered her. The strong walls of her pussy clenched hungrily around his hard length as he eased himself down onto her body.

He halted when he was only halfway feeling a barrier there.

_A virgin…no…there’s something in there…_

She squirmed under him a small cry escaping her lips.

“Hurts…” Liliane whimpered and Pierre withdrew quickly slipping two fingers inside her.

He twisted them so he could get a hold of the object obstructing his path into her body and tugged softly. That elicited a sharp cry of pain from her and he stopped and looked at her.

“What is this?”

“I don’t know…my master put it there…”

“When?” Pierre persisted.

“I can’t remember…” Liliane was crying softly.

Seeing the tears on her face almost broke down the hunter’s defences. Never before had he been so conflicted in his feelings. He was supposed to be tough, emotionless; iceman…yet, something about this slave was getting to him.

Setting his jaw he shifted position and tried again to dislodge the object. With success.

Drawing his fingers out of her pussy he held up a small metal bar that had both ends sharply pointed. He wondered at Liliane’s self-control; the implement must have been hurting her but she had never shown any outward signs of discomfort.

Laying the small spike on the bedside table he turned back to her. Sweat trickled in rivulets from her hairline; long strands were plastered to the side of her face. He rubbed her leg softly caressing the tension from her limb. Liliane relaxed at his touch her breathing becoming steady.

“Let’s try this again,” Pierre murmured.

He slowly slid his cock back inside her this time burying himself to the hilt. Liliane whimpered and twisted at the bonds on her wrists. Placing a firm hand on her hip Pierre leaned up and unhooked the cuffs.

“Hold onto my arms if you want…” he offered.

There was a warm sparkle in his dark eyes, a direct contrast to the previous chilliness.

Swallowing, the young woman wrapped her small hands around his hard biceps and breathed deeply as Pierre began to move slowly inside her. Small moans escaped her parted lips; her eyes were wide open, fear and desire mingling in their depths. He was bigger than Justin, that much she could tell. Yet, her pussy was so slick that it made no difference.

He slid in and out easily, leaning up and forward so his cock rubbed against her centre of pleasure. Her grip tightened on his arms and she groaned as she lifted her hips to meet his. Smiling, Pierre placed more pressure behind each of his thrusts; his eyes were half open as he moved feeling a rush of pleasure deep in his body.

“So hot…” _What am I saying?_ “So…tight…” _Shut up_ … “So close…” _For real…? Ah Jesus…_

Pierre’s loins tightened and he grunted as he thrust in deep eliciting a squeal from the slave and then he released his load. Liliane let out a small sob then gasped as she felt her pussy convulse around his hard length.

“No…” she sobbed softly. “I can’t…”

Pierre saw anguish in her blue eyes and leaned down to her.

“Come for me…” he ordered.

She could not disobey.

Gasping she clamped down hard around his cock and moaned as she began to come. Her body shuddered beneath the bounty hunter’s and she cried as she released. As she did Pierre stared right into her eyes and felt as if he was falling into them.

As he slumped on top of her exhausted a lone thought flashed across his mind.

_What the hell is happening to me?_


	8. Change my heart

_**A Week Later  
Sunday 11 AM  
The Studio**_  
  
“Pierre! Those aren’t the words! Pierre…are you listening to me?”  
  
Chuck waved a piece of paper in front of his best friend’s face. Pierre waved him away; he was on his cell phone. The drummer threw his hands up in disgust and glanced at Liliane who was sitting silently on a cushion at Pierre’s feet.  
  
“Jeeze…Jane…could you tell him he’s got it all wrong?”  
  
Pierre had decided that whilst in the band’s presence it would be prudent to keep up Liliane’s alias. There was no reason for any of them to know the truth; they knew her as ‘Jane’ and that was the way it was going to remain. Liliane hesitated.  
  
“I’ve tried, Chuck…but he’s stubborn. I think it sounds okay, though.”  
  
“You would…sheesh…when did this happen?”  
  
“When did what happen?”  
  
Pierre had finished on the phone and was now glowering at his friend.  
  
“She’s agreeing with you…and how come she’s with you anyway? I didn’t think she liked you.”  
  
Pierre had to be careful here; he couldn’t outright say that he felt anything for her…but then if he didn’t Chuck would think it was strange that they were together.  
  
“She changed her mind…figured she actually was attracted to me…” _And I’m falling for her…_  
  
“Hah…”  
  
Chuck had nothing better to say so he waved the sheet of paper at Pierre again.  
  
“This is wrong…”  
  
“No it’s not. It suits us better than that crap you wrote.”  
  
“Since when has anything I’ve written been crap?”  
  
“Since now.”  
  
“Oh shut up, Pierre. If you haven’t forgotten I wrote a lot of our second album.”  
  
“Yeh, with my help!”  
  
“Yeh…but I wro-”  
  
“Just shut up, Chuck. If you don’t like it, throw it out. I don’t give a shit.”  
  
Chuck stared in shock at him.  
  
“You don’t…care?”  
  
“No. I don’t. Got a problem with that, Charles?”  
  
Pierre glared at him, daring him to make a comment. Liliane remained quiet watching the two men warily. Sighing heavily Chuck shook his head and tossed the paper on the table.  
  
“No…” he walked away, shoulders slumped despondently.  
  
Pierre closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch.  
  
It was the second time that morning that he and Chuck had argued over the recording process, and he was sick and tired of it. He just wanted to get out of there; but the band was committed to recording a third album and he couldn’t just pike out. He would have to stick it out…but he knew after this record (including touring with it) he was going to quit.  
  
He had decided he wanted to concentrate 100% of his effort to his other profession. Having Liliane with him had been the clincher. Thinking of her caused his gaze to be drawn to the young woman where she sat at his feet.  
  
The night he’d had her was still at the forefront of his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be aroused by her in such a manner, but he hadn’t been able to resist. Justin didn’t know, Pierre had decided not to inform him of his actions. And anyway something good had come out of it. Liliane had opened up to him and he now knew a whole lot more about her life with Justin. And none of it was good.  
  
He found himself actually feeling sorry for her. And hating Justin more and more. She glanced up at him then and tilted her head to the side.  
  
“What are you thinking, sir?”  
  
It made Pierre shiver slightly when she addressed him as such.  
  
“Nothing you need to know.”  
  
He climbed to his feet grabbed up the lyrics he had penned and went to find the rest of the band leaving Liliane alone.  
  
 ** _Same Time  
Guild of D&S,  
Toronto Branch_**  
  
“Vernon, Justin.”  
  
Justin nodded as the clerk behind the desk scribbled his name down on a form.  
  
“So as you’ve already mentioned you want to place your slave into the custody of Pierre Charles Bouvier?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Therefore relinquishing any power over her?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Anything you want him to do?”  
  
“Kill her.”  
  
“Very good. Your request will be processed immediately and Pierre will be informed.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Justin placed his cap back on and strolled out of the old stone building and stood on the corner of the street. Glancing up and down he smiled broadly and stretched. Liliane was no longer his problem.  
  
The idea had come to him shortly after she had gone to Pierre’s. He realised he no longer wanted her and so had called the Guild to explain his reasons. Smiling at himself he sighed in content. Then he headed down the street disappearing around a corner without another glance.  
  
 _ **Guild of D &S, HQ**_  
  
At that same instant Nissa Norris strolled into the Guild’s Head Quarters and walked over to the reception where the clerk passed her a file.  
  
“Nissa, take this down to Pierre. Tell him it’s important.”  
  
“Are you sure I should do this?” the red head frowned.  
  
“The Master suggested that you take it to him instead of one of the couriers,” the clerk shrugged. “It’s not my place to say why.”  
  
“Ok then…”  
  
Nissa tucked the file into her bag, nodded then made her way back to where she’d left her car.  
  
 _ **11:30 AM  
The Studio**_  
  
David bounced around the room like a kangaroo on speed. Pierre tried to ignore him as he went over the lyrics again.  
  
Liliane had crept into the main room and was watching them. Chuck had plonked himself down at his drum set and was banging away in frustration.  
  
Bob Rock, who had worked on Still Not Getting Any with them was once again producing their album and was watching on with a bemused expression.  
  
He could sense the rising tension between Pierre and Chuck. So could David; his way of dealing with it though was to annoy his friends. Jeff and Seb wisely had decided not to show up at the studio. They had already recorded their sections and had gone to the movies.  
  
Pierre growled at David when he bumped into him.  
  
“Fuck off will you?”  
  
The bassist pouted but Pierre wasn’t in the mood for games. He swatted at him none to gently and David finally backed off. At that moment someone knocked on the door. Bob went to answer it. Nissa was standing just outside.  
  
“Um…is Pierre there? I have to give something to him.”  
  
“Come in, young lady…uh, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre looked up and then scowled deeply.  
  
“Norris. What do you want?”  
  
He didn’t bother standing up. She came over and held out the file.  
  
“This is for you. It’s important.”  
  
Nissa noticed Liliane and dropped her voice to a whisper.  
  
“It’s concerning her…”  
  
The bounty hunter looked at Liliane from the corner of his eye then sighed and nodded.  
  
“Thanks…I’ll look at it shortly. You want to stay for a bit?”  
  
“No, I have another…something I have to do. See you round, Pierre…oh…one thing though,” she stared him straight in the eyes. “He says he wants this done right.”  
  
“Your point being?”  
  
“Don’t go soft, will you?” she smirked and walked out letting the door click shut behind her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Liliane felt a chill when she recognised the woman who had been at the Guild. She wondered what was contained in the file that the woman had given Pierre. She had a horrible feeling that she would find out soon enough.  
  
Pierre walked over to her, face impassive revealing no emotion.  
  
“I’m going to get some lunch, come with me?” he let his tone curl into a question because David and Bob were in hearing range.  
  
Liliane nodded, it wasn’t as if she had any choice in the matter. David called after them as they walked out of the studio.  
  
“See you tonight…right?”  
  
Pierre waved his hand vaguely as the door shut behind them and then he steered Liliane over to his car and made her sit in the front passenger seat. Leaning against the side of the car he opened the file and perused it intensely. Liliane looked up at him cautiously. He glanced down at her expressionlessly.  
  
“What is it…?”  
  
“He…wants you dead.”  
  
Pierre’s voice was flat. Her eyes widened in disbelief.  
  
“No…no…he can’t…” she halted when she realised what that meant.  
  
She shrank against the car seat.  
  
“Please…” she looked up at the bounty hunter a desperate light in her sapphire gaze.  
  
He closed his eyes and tugged at the sleeves of his Role Model top. The black material clung to his biceps as they tensed visibly. Tightening his jaw he consciously felt his expression freeze.  
  
“I’m sorry…but I have my orders.”  
  
He could hear himself speak as if from a faraway place. Slamming the door closed he moved to the driver’s side and slid in starting up the car and pulling out of the driveway.  
  
Pierre drove in silence; the only sound was that of Liliane crying softly. After five minutes had passed he reached out with his right hand and switched the radio on. He couldn’t stand listening to the sounds of despair coming from the young woman beside him.  
  
The sounds of Metallica washed over him blocking out any other noise except those of his thoughts. And at that instance he suddenly pictured his bag. It was in the back seat, but his gun wasn’t in it.  
  
 _Tabernack…_  
  
He hung a swift left screeching around a corner at a rapid rate of knots and hurtled down the street coming to a skidding halt outside his apartment block. Turning to Liliane he rested a hand on her arm.  
  
“Stay here…I need to get something. Don’t even think of trying to escape…you will regret it, you got me?” Pierre’s voice was as hard as rock.  
  
The woman nodded tearfully; there was no way she would even think of moving.  
  
Releasing her arm, the bounty hunter slipped from the vehicle and dashed into the building. Liliane remained frozen in her seat, watching absently as people walked passed on the sidewalk.  
  
Several moments later, Pierre resurfaced; there was purpose to his movements as he strode back to the car and climbed in once more. Glancing sideways at his prisoner he opened the jacket, he had grabbed from inside the apartment on his way out, so she could see the semi-automatic pistol that he had tucked inside.  
  
She took a deep shuddering breath and turned her face away from him. He gazed at the slender, pale length of her neck, at the light strands of hair that hung across it; then he pulled out of the parking spot and headed to the main highway.  
  
 _ **1 PM  
Middle of Nowhere**_  
  
Sunlight glinted off the black metal of the pistol Pierre held in his right hand. Liliane knelt on the ground at his feet. Leaves lay scattered across the bare dirt.  
  
The bounty hunter had stopped the car in a desolate, secluded region quite a distance from civilisation. There were no dwellings for miles in any direction. He had pulled the young woman from the passenger seat, not before tying her wrists together to ensure she wouldn’t get away.  
  
Liliane was shaking in terror as he lead her across a well worn path and into the trees, stopping beneath a particularly large pine forcing her to her knees. She was crying uncontrollably, mumbling incoherently as he drew his firearm and flicked the safety off.  
  
“Please…please don’t do this…” Liliane sobbed, actual words bursting from her as Pierre stared down at her. “Don’t kill me…”  
  
He rubbed his palm along the barrel of the pistol. Then he stepped closer and grabbed a hunk of her long hair in his left hand pulling her head to the side and resting the snub of the pistol against her temple. Tears streaked unbidden down Liliane’s face.  
  
She lifted her bound hands and pushed at his legs begging profusely for him to let her go. Pierre’s fingers tightened on his gun and in her hair and she whimpered in anguish. She closed her eyes tightly as he pressed the gun firmer into her forehead.  
  
Curling his index finger against the trigger the bounty hunter hesitated…  
  
 _ **1:03 PM**_  
  
A hundred metres away Nissa Norris stood leaning against Pierre’s car when she heard a single clear gunshot echo through the cold air. Shivering she pulled her red jacket closer as she waited. When she saw his dark figure appearing from the shadows she smiled faintly.  
  
His eyes registered surprise when he saw her. He cast his gaze around noticing that his vehicle was the only one in sight. But that didn’t mean anything. She could have been dropped off…she could have fallen out of the sky, that was entirely irrelevant.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Pierre snapped irritably.  
  
“Oh, just checking up on you.”  
  
She smiled innocently at him but he wasn’t fooled for a second.  
  
“Yeah, right. Come to make sure I’ve done my job right? Well you needn’t worry. She’s dead.”  
  
“I figured. You never waver an inch do you. Mr Hardman Bouvier.”  
  
“Piss off, Norris.”  
  
He moved to grab the driver’s door but Nissa was in his way.  
  
“Move aside.”  
  
His tone was glacial. Nissa narrowed her eyes on his face.  
  
“What is your problem?”  
  
“You are…get out of my way…”  
  
The red head glowered at him.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Pierre shook his head and pushed her aside. She grabbed his arm. When he looked at her, she hesitated wondering whether she should say what she was about to say. Then throwing all caution to the wind Nissa spoke her mind.  
  
“Pierre…please…things didn’t used to be like this between us…”  
  
The bounty hunter glanced askance at her. Memories that he didn’t even know existed began to surface from deep within his subconscious. Breathing deeply he attempted to remain impassive as he responded.  
  
“What are you talking about, Norris?”  
  
Nissa stared at him. _He really doesn’t remember…either that or he’s a great actor…then again he’s probably buried it all beneath his belief that I’m trying to oust him…which is true in a way…but he knows I love competition…_  
  
Swallowing hard she slipped a hand into her jeans pocket and removed her closed fist and looked at him.  
  
“This…” she opened her hand; lying nestled in her palm was a silver ring, there were several diamonds gracing the band.  
  
Pierre swallowed hard and remembered.  
  
“We were engaged, Pierre…what happened to us?”  
  
Nissa watched as his chocolate brown eyes clouded over.  
  
“That was years ago…” his voice was weaker than he wanted it to be.  
  
“Years? Yeh, I guess in this profession six years is a long time…”  
  
“And…things change…” Pierre’s voice was a low rumble.  
  
Nissa looked into his eyes.  
  
“No. You’ve changed.”  
  
He stared at her then turning abruptly slid into his car and started the engine. Before he could pull away though, Nissa jerked the door open and glared at him.  
  
“She isn’t dead is she?”  
  
She watched as his face slowly set like stone then without so much as an answer Pierre shoved Nissa away from the car, slammed the door and peeled out of his spot onto the highway. The woman stared after him incredulously.  
  
 _He’s lost it…_  
  
* * * * *  
  
Sunlight filtered spasmodically through Liliane’s dazed conscious. She groaned and rolled over onto her back looking up at blue sky.  
  
 _What the…?_  
  
Blinking rapidly she raised her hand to her forehead, realising suddenly that her wrists were no longer tied and that she was in fact, still alive. Pressing her fingers to her forehead she felt a lump on the side, where Pierre had hit her with his gun.  
  
 _He hit me…what…but…he was going to kill me…and there was a gunshot…_  
  
Groaning she slowly sat up and glanced around until she noticed, dug deep in a piece of root, a bullet. The shell laid several metres away. She swallowed difficultly; her mouth was parched.  
  
Looking around she tried to see some sign of anyone close by. She blinked hard when her eyes settled on a shape moving toward her. Squinting, she shaded her eyes with her right hand. It was Nissa.  
  
The red head halted as her eyes settled on the young slave who was sitting watching her nervously.  
  
“So,” she spoke out loud. “I was right…you’re not dead.”  
  
Liliane coughed and shook her head.  
  
“No, ma’am…”  
  
Nissa sighed heavily.  
  
“If they find out…Pierre could be in deep trouble,” she murmured half to herself.  
  
Liliane shivered and hugged her own body. The woman bounty hunter walked closer and dropped down on one knee next to the blonde.  
  
“Here…let me look at your head…”  
  
There was a hint of compassion in the red head’s brown eyes.  
  
She may have been a hunter like Pierre, but she was also a woman and unlike Pierre, she always felt some tenderness to the female victims.  
  
Liliane remained stiff as Nissa tested the lump gently with one finger. The wound was already beginning to colour a dark blue.  
  
“That’s a doozy of a bruise you’re going to have.”  
  
The slave looked down at the ground and whispered, “Why didn’t he kill me…?”  
  
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t hazard to guess why Pierre does anything…but it seems to me he has a soft spot for you.”  
  
Nissa scowled.  
  
“That could be his downfall…”  
  
Liliane glanced up at the slightly older woman.  
  
“How do you mean, ma’am?”  
  
She shook her head in response and lifted Liliane to her feet.  
  
“Come on. I’ll get you some water…then I’ll have to get you back to town…and see if we can sort things out.”  
  
Apprehension flickered in the slave’s expression. Nissa squeezed her arm as she led her back to the road.  
  
“Don’t worry…I don’t think HQ will follow through with the death request…apparently your master had no right to make it in the first place.”  
  
Liliane couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She didn’t want to even think of Justin so she remained silent as Nissa pulled her cell phone out and made a call.  
  
“Right…Pierre’s coming back to pick us up…he’s cooled down a little…” she commented dryly as she concentrated on the road.  
  
Again the blonde stayed quiet. It wasn’t her place to make her opinion known.  
  
The two women squinted down the highway as they saw a familiar vehicle moving closer to them. Nissa lifted her hand to wave him down and when he stopped Pierre rolled down the window and jerked his thumb toward the backseat.  
  
“Hop in…haven’t got all day…sun’s going down…”  
  
Nissa pulled open the door and pushed Liliane ahead of her into the car. Pierre glanced almost sympathetically at the slave then shot a sharp look at Nissa.  
  
“I’m surprised you’re not going to dob me in.”  
  
“Don’t hold your breath, Bouvier,” she snapped waspishly.  
  
Rolling his eyes he put pedal to the metal and screeched off down the highway in a cloud of dust as the sun began its descent in the sky.


	9. Inexplicable emotions

**_Monday Morning  
Guild of D & S, HQ  
Disciplinary Hearing_ **

“Mr Bouvier, what have you to say to the Chair?”

Pierre clenched his hands around the summons that he had been given that morning. He cast his gaze across the stern-faced officials his eyes finally resting on that of the Grand Master.

“I don’t see the reason why Justin Vernon wanted his slave dead. Liliane did nothing wrong.”

“She has attempted to escape her master more times than is acceptable…in fact it is not acceptable at all. You should have killed her the instant you found her.”

“Justin didn’t even want her dead the first time he drew my attention to her,” Pierre countered.

The Chairman rose and stared stonily at the young man.

“You were given clear instructions. You were supposed to dispose of her. You know the consequence of your failure to comply with the official request.”

The bounty hunter’s eyes widened in shock.

“No…you know how much this career means to me.”

The Grand Master rose then and smiled sardonically.

“What of your band, Pierre?”

Pierre hesitated.

“I’m not…enjoying it as I once did, sir.”

“Well, you are going to have to find a way to enjoy it once more.”

The chairman’s eyes were hard.

“From today, you are no longer to work for the Guild or any other association as a bounty hunter…as we speak, your license is being nullified. And you will not set foot in this building ever again. Have I made myself clear?”

Pierre stood frozen; yet everything was falling apart around him. He wasn’t certain he had heard the Chairman clearly enough and it didn’t hit him until one of the security guards stepped forward and motioned for him to hand over his pistol.

Swallowing the young man complied. There was nothing else he could do. The guard stepped back and the officials watched as Pierre strode out of the room, head up, shoulders back; refusing to let them see how defeated he really felt inside.

Nissa was waiting outside for him. As he stepped out into the hallway she studied him for any sign of what had happened. He was standing as tall as he could as he walked out. His muscles filled out the plain black T-shirt he was wearing; his black jeans hung low on his hips; the white lace of his left shoe dangled precariously close to the floor.

He was a proud man, Nissa could see this but as his eyes found hers, his broad shoulders slumped dejectedly as he made his way toward her.

“I’m sorry, Pierre…I had too…” she whispered, judging by the expression in his dark eyes that the hearing hadn’t gone well.

“I know, Nissa. I don’t blame you…” he laughed bitterly. “I blame myself…I’m the stupid idiot who decided he was going to go soft on a slave…”

“You had good reason to…Pierre, I don’t know if this’ll make you feel better, but Jen discovered something about Justin Vernon and Liliane for me.”

Nissa watched as a strange light appeared in her colleague’s eyes. Casting his gaze around the hallway he caught hold of her elbow in one hand and steered her along with him.

“Tell me over coffee…”

Nissa allowed him to push her into a seat and watched as he crossed over to the canteen and ordered two steaming mugs of coffee then when he had them in his hands he walked back over and placed them on the table.

Sinking down on his chair he lifted his own mug to his lips steam curling up obliterating her view of his face for a moment.

“So…”

Pierre lowered his mug and fixed his piercing gaze on the woman seated opposite. Nissa curled her hand around her coffee mug as she cleared her throat.

“After you had left with Liliane two weeks ago…I received an assignment…concerning Justin Vernon…it worried me so I handed it over to Jen to research…”

Pierre frowned. “Why would the Guild be interested in Vernon? Wasn’t he above reproach? I hear he was high up in Guild social circles…”

Nissa shook her head.

“You heard wrong. It didn’t say much in his official file, but Jen did a little searching for me…in Toronto of all places.”

He frowned again but before he could speak, Nissa held up her hand for him to wait and then dipped the same hand into her bag and produced a pale manila folder that she tossed on the table between them.

“Have a look at that.”

Brow furrowing, Pierre opened the file and lifted the thick wad of papers in one hand.

“Jeeze…is this his file?”

“Yes, this is his complete file and it’s not in the Guild’s archives.”

“Where are they from then?” Pierre asked as he skimmed the pages.

Nissa smiled faintly.

“This information is what will probably make your day slightly better…are you ready for this?”

Pierre nodded.

“Ok, get this…in Toronto he’s a wanted man.”

“What?”

“Yep, read the um…tenth page. It’s there in black and white.”

Pierre flicked to the tenth page as he repeated his question.

“Toronto Precinct.”

“The police?” his head came up, surprise in his eyes.

She nodded affirmatively.

“Sheesh…look at all this…God…20 counts of…first degree murder…what is he? A serial killer?”

Nissa just looked at the man in front of her.

“How the hell could he have been cleared to purchase a slave…?” Pierre was incredulous.

“He wasn’t, at least not in Toronto.”

“ _Tabernack_ …this just gets worse and worse doesn’t it…”

“Yes…not very sunny…at least for him.”

“Pity I’ve been discredited…I could have…y’know…” Pierre’s voice trailed off numbly.

Nissa leaned over and laid a hand on his knee. He glanced down at it then back into her soft brown eyes.

“How’s Liliane?”

The bounty hunter changed the subject for a moment.

“She’s okay…Jen’s keeping her at her apartment…says you should come over and check on her.”

“A slave, why would I…oh…I see,” Pierre nodded. “I will…later. Damn it! I wish I could do something.”

Nissa grinned. “That’s where this grim picture looks better. Even though you’ve been discredited, this is my case and it states that any bounty hunter may procure the aid of an outside agency, whether licensed or not to finish the job.”

A hopeful look flashed in Pierre’s dark eyes.

“You mean…”

“Yes, I need you to help me with this…” she hesitated.

Quirking an eyebrow, Pierre placed his hand over the top of hers, slowly lacing his fingers with hers.

“Is that right, now? And why should I?”

Nissa swallowed passed a lump that had formed in her throat. She was unusually nervous; she was not normally given to feeling this way.

“Well, I can’t…kill someone…”

“Oh, and I can?” Pierre’s voice was tight.

She stared at him in earnest.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

“Jesus…but what about…”

“Don’t worry…the Guild doesn’t need to know.”

“Not going to put this one in the books?”

“I’ll exclude your name.”

Pierre frowned taking another gulp of coffee. Nissa waited.

“Why me. Why now? In six years you haven’t…needed me for anything,” he finally spoke knowing that the words he used would probably dredge up a whole past that neither of them wanted to admit they had with each other.

In fact he had suppressed his own memories so well that he even believed himself when he told anyone he had never had a girlfriend. He kept his gaze riveted on the redhead before him. Casting her eyes to their entwined hands she sighed deeply.

“That’s not true, Pierre. I…never stopped needing you…after all, you were the one who just disappeared from the radar.”

Pierre was about to retort when he stopped to take in what she had just said. Releasing her hand suddenly he stood up and glared down at her.

“Nissa, I don’t need this right now. If you want me to do this, then fine. I will. But you have to realise…I’m not the person I was six years ago.”

Nodding slowly Nissa settled back against her chair and looked back up at him.

“Okay…okay…sit down…I need to tell you what we’re going to do…”

Pierre hesitated then sank back on his chair and placed both of his hands flat on the table in front of him. Forcing herself to concentrate on his face Nissa explained the plan that she and Jen had come up with earlier that week.

Listening intently with one part of his brain, Pierre was able to glean everything he needed to know whilst observing the woman before him. Nissa hadn’t changed that much in six years. She was still the confident, strong willed person he had met on his first assignment.

Nissa always spoke her mind no matter the situation or company that they were in and that had been the cause of his attraction to her in the first place. He liked people who had no fear of what others thought.

They had quickly become an item within Guild circles; Pierre had never told the members of his band that he had a girlfriend; it was easier that way. Then one night after a particularly difficult case, which they had both been working on, Pierre had proposed to Nissa and she had accepted. They had been very much in love, he knew that much.

What happened to change that Pierre didn’t even remember. It had been too long ago. And life had gone on for both of them.

Blinking Pierre focussed on Nissa’s face as she spoke in a low determined tone. She never said anything that was unnecessary unless she was trying to make a fool out of someone, and even then whatever she had to say always had some deeper purpose.

“So, that’s what we’re going to do.”

Nissa leaned back against her chair and lifted an eyebrow at him, asking silently what he thought.

Pierre nodded; his smile had an animalistic quality that didn’t go unnoticed by her sharp eyes.

“Sounds like a plausible plan…there may be some glitches, but knowing you as I do…you’ll get around them…you always do.”

Nissa wasn’t certain whether she should take that as a compliment or not so she simply nodded to the man seated before her then rose to her feet, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table.

Without a word she flicked a card on the table and turned to walk away. Pierre didn’t move to retrieve it until she had disappeared from view; then he leaned forward and lifted the card between his index and middle fingers and glanced at the details on it.

After memorising them he ripped the card into shreds and dropped them into his coffee mug making his own exit from the building.

* * * * *

**_Monday 3PM  
Jen’s Apartment_ **

“Could you put the kettle on to boil, thanks Liliane.”

Jen scrounged in her rarely utilised pantry for the tin of pre-ground coffee as the other woman filled the kettle with water and set it to boil.

Jen watched her from the corner of her eyes; ever since Nissa had brought Liliane over to her place she had noticed a marked change in her demeanour. The young slave no longer cowered into herself and was quite a willing helper.

Jen’s apartment now looked cleaner than it had done in months.

“We’re having visitors,” Jen said in way to explain who the coffee was for.

She never drank it herself but she knew that Nissa swore by it religiously. Liliane let this information sink into her mind but made no response, continuing to watch the kettle.

Glancing casually toward her as she brushed a lock of dyed blonde hair from her face, Jen’s smile was brittle. Nissa had filled her in with enough of the details to know that Liliane had had it a lot tougher than any other slave or submissive that had caught the attention of the Guild.

Jen hoped with every shred of her being that Nissa could figure out a way to use the information she had found to turn Liliane’s life around and make it more bearable. Just as she set the tin of coffee on the bench the doorbell rang.

_Riiiiing…Riiiiing…Riiiiing…_

“Coming!” she yelled as she rushed over to the door and pulled it open, almost getting bowled over by Nissa who pushed through the door quickly followed closely by a person Jen hadn’t expected to see again.

It was Pierre.

As he stepped into her apartment Jen couldn’t help but notice the dishevelled state that he was in.

His jeans still hung low at his hips and his top was crumpled. The single white lace of his left shoe had finally come undone and so the tongue hung out of the top, his heel lifting almost out of the shoe; yet, he didn’t seem to have realised. And even if he had, Jen knew it wouldn’t have made any difference to his usual stormy demeanour.

Pierre nodded at Jen silently then made his way over to where Liliane was standing next to the kettle. She hadn’t turned around, concentrating on boiling the water. Her long hair hung loose and shining down her back.

“He’s got a one-track mind at the moment,” Nissa murmured to the bemused British woman as she slumped on the single couch.

Jen nodded and joined her as they both watched the bounty hunter and the slave intently.

Pierre stepped closer, the soles of his Converses’ barely making a sound, and watched for the exact moment that Liliane sensed him. A visible shiver that ran down her spine was the first indication and then her shoulders tensed as she spun to face him, her eyes widening in apprehension.

He smirked at the hunted look in her eyes. Then tilted his head to the side his expression softening as he moved closer, pressing her back against the bench, leaning his hands on either side of her.

“It’s okay…I’m not here to do anything to you. I just need to ask you a few questions.”

The young woman glanced hesitantly toward Jen who nodded reassuringly. Looking back at him she licked her lips nervously.

Trying to think was difficult with Pierre’s large frame almost touching her slighter one, his dark eyes gazing down into her face. He could see the tiny beads of sweat forming on her brow.

Clearing her throat it took her several moments of opening and closing her mouth before she had the clarity of mind to speak. And even then her words came out unsteadily.

“I was…just making some…coffee…do you want some?”

“That’d be nice, then we can talk.”

Pierre kept Liliane trapped between his arms for a moment longer, just breathing in her faint female fragrance then drew back and made his way to join the other women to wait.

Several minutes passed when Liliane placed a tray on the table and then settled on the cushion on the floor wriggling her butt on it to get comfortable. Pierre smiled faintly moving to sit on the edge of the sofa.

“So, there are few things I need to know about Justin.”

As soon as her former master’s name left his lips Liliane shuddered and shook her head fiercely.

“I know nothing…I can’t…”

Pierre held up his hand and looked at her sharply.

“This is of utmost importance, Liliane.”

The blonde lowered her eyes and breathed deeply, her mind in turmoil. Nissa knew what was bothering her and glanced at the man beside her.

“She’s afraid there’ll be repercussions if she says anything against him, Pierre.”

Sighing in frustration the former bounty hunter slid from the couch and knelt in front of Liliane and took her right hand gently in his own.

“Look at me.”

Liliane lifted watery eyes to his chocolate orbs. He could see the fear in her expression. Smiling faintly he caressed the palm of her hand.

“It’s alright…nothing will happen if you tell me what I need to know. Justin will never find out.”

“You don’t know what he’s like…” her voice trembled.

Pierre laughed harshly.

“Hun…I know more about that bastard than you could poke a stick at…you needn’t worry about that.”

Liliane frowned sitting back slightly; he didn’t relinquish his hold on her hand.

“Then what do you need to know?”

Her heart pounded in her chest, in her head and she fought to keep calm so she could focus on everything Pierre said.

“Where does Justin like to go on Friday nights?”

“Friday’s?” she didn’t flinch at the abruptness of Pierre’s question. “The Club downtown. But he’s still in Toronto isn’t he?”

“That’s immaterial,” Pierre replied sternly. “I’m guessing if he was in Toronto he’d go to the club strip down there.”

He glanced at Nissa. She nodded.

He turned back to Liliane; she had her eyes cast to the floor once more. Pierre’s reprimand had stung her, she hadn’t meant to question him the way she had. After all she was still a slave and she could never let herself forget that.

Vaguely she noted that he was still holding onto her hand and so she flicked her eyes up to meet his. He nodded to her then released her hand leaning back on his heels.

“One other question: were you his first slave?”

She stared at him incomprehensibly blinking unsteadily. Then she shook her head.

“No. He had another…I don’t know much about her except that he said that he…he…” Liliane halted; a sudden terror had gripped her heart as if the fact she was even thinking of saying it would bring Justin’s wrath down on her.

Pierre’s eyes narrowed warningly on her face.

“Tell me, it could be important.”

Swallowing the bile that had built in the back of her throat the young woman forced herself to speak the final words she had been holding back.

“He said he killed her…”

Pierre rocked back on his heels and closed his eyes for a moment. Liliane waited for his response.

He opened one eye and studied her with practiced ease. She remained still sensing in some way that he was gauging the truthfulness of her statement.

After what seemed like an eternity Pierre sighed deeply, and reaching out with his right hand, he cupped her cheek tenderly caressing it.

“Thank you.”

That simple phrase conveyed a lot more than his immediate response to her information. It was couched with all the previous situations they had both been through together and Liliane sensed that something had changed between them.

Smiling Pierre passed the pad of his thumb tantalisingly close across her lips then rose to stand once more. Turning from her he looked at Nissa with a scowl.

“This complicates matters.”

“You think, Bouvier? Somehow I think it actually makes it easier.”

“Enlighten me,” Pierre growled.

The red head rolled her eyes.

“Pierre, trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

“You’d better…Liliane’s life counts on it.”

Nissa and Jen traded knowing looks and the former grinned sourly.

“Since when do you care about that?”

Pierre let her question hang unanswered inbetween them as he made for the door of the flat.

“I’m leaving…I’ll see you at the end of the week.”

“You’ll be ready?”

“Always.”

The menace in his voice remained like a doom filled cloud as he blew out the door. Something else stayed behind him as an ever-present reminder of his recent occupation of the room.

Shivering a little Liliane wrapped her arms around herself whilst the other two women rose to clean up.

All three of them pondered the near future with a sense of foreboding, but also a hint of optimism. The atmosphere was thick with expectations.

Myriad emotions clamoured for attention in the air around them: fear, hate, sadness, joy but above all a deeper sensation that none could put a name to for fear of chasing it away. One that was so palpable that it didn’t matter where it had originated and whom it was being directed toward. It was there. Pure and unadulterated.

 _Love_ …


	10. The climax to end all climaxes

_**Friday 9:29 PM  
The Studio**_  
  
“Done! It’s finished!”  
  
Chuck grinned as Bob Rock removed his earphones and sat back in his leather chair.  
  
“It’s about fucking time,” Pierre growled as he unfolded himself from the stool he was perched on.  
  
They’d been in the studio since earlier that afternoon finishing off their third and, as far as he was concerned, final album. The five of them had already laid down all the tracks but now finally they had the finished product in their hot little hands.  
  
“Who fed you sour grapes, eh?”  
  
David poked Pierre in the side of his head. The vocalist’s lip curled derisively as he turned blazing brown eyes to the smaller man.  
  
“You, for breakfast, remember?” he spat cruelly.  
  
The bassist, who normally wasn’t affected by anything anyone said to him, flinched. He then pouted and backed away in a corner to sulk. Chuck glowered at Pierre.  
  
“Well done, do you feel good now, Bouvier?”  
  
Pierre stood up and grabbed his bag and snapped in response.  
  
“I haven’t got time for your shit, Comeau. I have some place I gotta be.”  
  
With that he stalked from the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that it flew open again. Ignoring this Pierre hurried out of the studio and onto the street.  
  
Glancing at his wristwatch, the red glowing screen informing him that it was almost 9:35 PM, he dashed to his car and wrenched the door open tossing his bag in and sliding swiftly into the driver’s seat. He’d wasted enough of his precious time at the studio and he only had ten minutes to meet Jen and Nissa down at the nightclub strip.  
  
Clenching his jaw he rocketed out of the driveway narrowly missing a parked car as he careened down the street.  
  
 _ **9:44 PM  
In Town**_  
  
Casting a jaundiced eye at his rear-view mirror the ex-bounty hunter snarled in frustration. The dim glow of red and blue lights flashed at a steady pulse several hundred feet behind him.  
  
 _Tabernack…I don’t need this…_  
  
Pierre spun the wheel tearing down a side street.  
  
 _Forgive me_ …he growled as he almost ploughed over a couple of hookers hanging on the side of the alleyway.  
  
His hands tightened on his steering wheel as he bumped over a curb and hurtled the wrong way down a one-way street. Exiting the street he jolted across a speed hump and found himself back where he wanted to be and continued down the road until he came to a shuddering halt beside the large orange neon sign heralding the entrance of Night Club Row.  
  
Nissa and Jen were already there waiting for him. The redhead was pacing angrily in front of the sign as he propelled himself from the driver’s seat and trotted over toward them.  
  
“It’s about time you got here!” Nissa snapped.  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes as he quickly checked to make sure he had everything he needed.  
  
“Lay off, would you? It takes forever to cut an album.”  
  
Nissa snorted and glanced at Jen.  
  
“You ready?”  
  
The bottle-blonde nodded. Her lips were painted crimson and she wore more make-up than Pierre had ever seen on any woman. Any, normal woman, that is. Because tonight Jen was going undercover.  
  
She wore a tight red halter neck top that accentuated her breasts and a short black leather skirt. Shiny red leather boots enclosed her feet and legs. She looked ready to kill. Pierre cocked an eyebrow at her.  
  
“Hmmm…that look reminds me of something…”  
  
“Yeah, your tenth job, remember?” Jen leered at him then tucked the small tracking device, Nissa handed her, into her right boot.  
  
Pierre watched silently then rubbed at the side of his head.  
  
“Where’s Liliane?”  
  
“Safe at my place,” Jen reassured him.  
  
She had picked up on the anxiety in his dark eyes and stepped closer to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
  
“She’ll be fine, Pierre.”  
  
He blinked calm brown eyes at her in acknowledgement then moved away several metres and gazed up at the night sky. Here the stars were all but obliterated by the bright lights and he could only imagine what they looked like. Still as he stared fixedly up at the heavens he saw a single shooting star pass rapidly across the velvety blanket above them.  
  
Smiling faintly he tucked his hand into his jacket pocket stroking his thumb across the barrel of his pistol as he made a silent yet fervent wish that nothing would go wrong. The plan was so simple, so straightforward that he knew he would have to be extra careful not to screw things up.  
  
Wishing on a star was such a childish thing to do; yet somehow it was comforting. Nodding slightly he turned back to the two women who were looking at him curiously.  
  
“What were you nodding for?” Nissa pursed her lips severely at him.  
  
Shaking his head he padded back next to her.  
  
“Oh, no reason.”  
  
Rubbing his hands together he chuckled softly in anticipation.  
  
“We’ve work to do…”  
  
“Well, then I’d better get moving,” Jen said quietly.  
  
Deftly twisting her hair up into an untidy bun the young woman hurried down into the brightly lit street, letting her hips sway slightly as she left the two bounty hunters alone to ponder their next move.  
  
 ** _9:56 PM_**  
  
Justin Vernon stumbled out of one the many nightclubs out onto the street. Wiping a hand across his face he glanced up and down the street hungry for a little bit of something. His eyes zeroed in on a woman standing on the side of the street.  
  
Something about the clothes she was wearing and her body posture screamed prostitute. Smirking lasciviously, Justin made his way toward her. He could feel his cock straining against the fly of his jeans and he stepped up behind her and snaked an arm around her waist.  
  
“Well, hello my pretty…what’s a nice young lady doing down this end of town, eh?”  
  
He felt her stiffen then relax into his firm hold as she purred in response.  
  
“Anything you want, dear…” her voice was low and smooth like honey and as she turned to face him he gazed into piercingly hot eyes.  
  
“It’ll cost you though,” she added, a knowing smirk playing across her features as she felt the man’s hard-on pressed against her groin.  
  
“It always does,” Justin laughed lustily pulling her closer into his arms.  
  
Giggling, Jen grabbed his hand and lead him down the street toward a dark alley.  
  
“We can’t do it out here…got to find someplace private…”  
  
“Lead on my sweet, vixen…”  
  
He locked his eyes onto the pale bun at the back of Jen’s head deliciously depraved thoughts of what he would do to this woman swirling rampantly through his mind.  
  
 _We’re going to have so much fun…you and I_ …he thought savagely as he followed her down into the dark alley.  
  
When they reached the end he pushed her against the rough wall and leaned his groin hard against hers. Jen moaned and arched against him.  
  
She had to keep his interest on her to give Pierre time to find them; and so, at each touch of his cold hands on her arms, her face, she let out small groans of pleasure and smiled grimly at the lust filled glow in his eyes, the only real thought repeating itself in her mind:  
  
 _This will cost you…you bastard…_  
  
 ** _10:01 PM_**  
  
Nissa glanced at Pierre who was gazing down at the scanner in the palm of his hand watching the small red dot on the screen that notified them of Jen’s whereabouts.  
  
“So?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Give it another minute…”  
  
 _10:02 PM_  
  
“Now…” Pierre growled and then disappeared from the redhead’s side as if he’d never been there.  
  
Nissa took off after him keeping back far enough so as not to be noticed, but not so far that she would lose him.  
  
Halting just at the entrance to the alley Pierre quickly slid his gun from his jacket pocket and slipped the loaded clip into place. Holding it low close to his right leg he stepped into the side street and crept close to the wall remaining in the shadows until he reached the end.  
  
Glancing around a dustbin he could see them leaning against the wall. Jen had her back pressed against the wall and Justin was standing in front of her fumbling with the catch on her skirt.  
  
Watching silently, Pierre waited until the man had removed her skirt then cautiously he paced out from behind the bin and levelled the barrel of his gun at a point between Justin’s shoulder blades.  
  
 _10:05 PM_  
  
“Turn around…”  
  
The voice that cut through the rosy haze of Justin’s desire was low and deadly.  
  
He hesitated wondering whether it was worth taking notice of or whether he should just continue with what he was doing. Deciding to go with the latter he made to pull off the hooker’s halter neck top.  
  
When the voice next spoke it was much closer than before and Justin froze with his hand hovering close to Jen’s neck.  
  
“I said. Turn. Around.”  
  
Cold, hard words. Matching the cold, hard steel of the gun barrel that Justin found himself facing when he swivelled to meet his adversary.  
  
“What the-?”  
  
“Don’t say a word,” Pierre cut in swiftly as he flicked the safety catch off keeping his aim steady.  
  
Justin swallowed hard, a trickle of sweat making its way down from his hairline. Staring into the blank eyes of the former bounty hunter, he felt a chill take hold of his heart. Motioning with the gun Pierre moved closer.  
  
“Step aside,” he ordered quietly.  
  
His eyes were steely black. The other man decided obedience would be the best course of action and so he slowly shuffled to the side. Pierre kept the pistol trained on him as he turned to look at Jen.  
  
“Get your clothes on and go back out there. Tell Nissa to wait for me.”  
  
Nodding the woman quickly complied, pulling her skirt back on and hurrying back down the dark alley. Once she had gone Pierre turned his attention back to the man in front of him.  
  
“So, Justin Vernon, we meet again. Not the greatest of circumstances I must say,” his lip curled viciously.  
  
The other man took a step back trembling visibly, keeping his eyes locked on the gun in Pierre’s hand.  
  
“What do you want?” his tone was aggressive. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, just trying to have a bit of fun…”  
  
Pierre quirked an eyebrow in disbelief.  
  
“Really? Do that often, do you?”  
  
“What’s it to you?” Justin snarled, “Any man would do it. And why would you care, eh? It was just a bloody hooker…nobody gives a rat’s arse about people like _them_!”  
  
There was such venom in his tone that it made Pierre want to puke.  
  
“They’re still human, they deserve some respect,” he spoke coldly.  
  
“Hah!” the sound that came from the younger man was a harsh bark. “If they wanted respect they wouldn’t go around letting men do that to them. They’re all fucking useless, a waste of fricking space…”  
  
Disgust and loathing for the man in front of him almost made Pierre lose control of his emotions but he managed to keep them at bay, the only outward sign of his anger was the tightening of his finger on the trigger. And the calm words that he spoke next to the cornered man.  
  
“I ought to just kill you now for the things you’ve done. You sanctimonious bastard.”  
  
“What the hell for? I’ve done nothing wrong.”  
  
Justin was sweating now, wondering just what it was the bounty hunter knew about him. As if reading his thoughts Pierre took another step closer and raised the level of the barrel so it was pointing at his forehead.  
  
“Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about, Vernon. All those girls…in Toronto and Montreal…the majority of them prostitutes…all of them dead…after you’d had your ‘fun’ with them…”  
  
Pierre fought to control his voice but Justin picked up on his frustration and laughed.  
  
“You wouldn’t really kill me for that would you? Come on, you’re a fucking bounty hunter…you make it a living to kill people like _them_ any day.”  
  
A cocky expression appeared on his face.  
  
The former hunter refused to take the bait and just glared at the monster standing before him.  
  
Furious thoughts rushed through his mind as he kept the gun aimed at Justin’s head. How could the authorities have let him just slip through their fingers; it was disgraceful. If he had been on the police force he would have nabbed the son-of-a-bitch the first chance he got.  
  
Standing there staring into the smug face of his captive he could feel a burning desire to just grab him by the balls and then to rip him apart with his bare hands. He could see it happening in slow motion in his mind’s eye but when he blinked to clear the crimson haze from his sights he knew he couldn’t do that. He had to keep this as clean and professional as possible.  
  
Justin waited apprehensively. Pressing his back against the wall behind him he knew that there was no way of escaping this encounter and so he remained still and silent watching the glint of metal that was the snub of Pierre’s pistol.  
  
Knowing the way the Guild worked Justin knew that if Pierre were going to kill him he would have to do it by the book. There would be no room for mistakes or philosophical treatise. No going back once the deed was done.  
  
What the younger man didn’t realise though was that Pierre was a loose agent. He was no longer licensed and anything he did was now completely off record; Nissa had assured Pierre of this too many times to count and now staring along the barrel of his pistol the former bounty hunter realised that it didn’t matter how he disposed of Justin. Nobody would ever know…only Nissa and himself.  
  
His resolve hardening Pierre came to a decision.  
  
“Turn around and put your hands flat against the wall,” he spoke softly confident of his ability to cow Justin into submission.  
  
The other man sensed that the hunter was in no mood for arguments and so did as he was instructed.  
  
Slowly padding forward he moved so he could press the pistol into the small of Justin’s back angling it so it was thrust hard against his kidneys. The bastard had the nerve to grunt in protest and so Pierre jammed the barrel harder into his back eliciting a moan of pain from his captive.  
  
Just as he slid his finger to the trigger a voice called from behind him.  
  
“Wait!”  
  
It was Nissa.  
  
Turning his head Pierre glowered at the interruption.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Before you kill him…” she panted, as she jogged the final steps to his side.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I just want to do something.”  
  
Pierre scowled but stepped back seizing Justin by the scruff of his neck and turning him so he was facing the woman bounty hunter.  
  
Silently she flicked her I.D. from her pocket flashing it authoritatively at him and then without further ado she sunk her knee straight into his crotch forcing a cry of pain and shock from his lips. Then she reached down and seized his balls in one hand and crushed them in the palm of her hand leaning forward to stare deep into his horrified gaze.  
  
“This…is for every woman you raped and killed, you fucking bastard,” she spat then she released him giving Pierre a firm nod. “The police are back there but they have stated they won’t interfere with what we’re doing here tonight.”  
  
“So…”  
  
Pierre glanced questioningly at her keeping an iron grip on Justin’s shaking figure.  
  
“Kill him.”  
  
“With pleasure.”  
  
Grimly he forced Justin back into his prior position against the wall and shoved the barrel of the gun between his shoulder blades.  
  
For several long excruciating moments Justin sweated wondering if Pierre would ever pull the trigger.  
  
Opening his mouth to mock him Justin felt a sudden sharp explosion of pain somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach and then the deafening sound of a gunshot obliterated all conscious thought. He staggered sideways unable to support his weight against the wall and Pierre stepped back allowing Justin to fall to the ground.  
  
Trying to roll onto his back the man groaned in agony and lifted desperate eyes to the implacable stare of his killer. Levelling his gun between Justin’s eyes Pierre stared fixedly down the length of the barrel.  
  
The younger man panted slightly, pressing his body into the ground, attempting to staunch the flow of blood, but it was useless. He was a marked man and he knew he was going to die.  
  
He watched through blurred eyes as Pierre’s finger tensed on the trigger. A single line of sweat curved its way across the back of his hand and hung from the base of his palm.  
  
Time stood still. The hunter and the hunted, facing each other down. Neither moving an inch. Both knowing the outcome.  
  
As the tiny drop of sweat hovered dangerously and suddenly released its hold on his hand, Pierre pulled the trigger. There was no way at point-blank range that he would miss and there was no time for Justin to move; the bullet hit with lethal force and burrowed into his brain killing him instantly.  
  
 _10:13 PM_  
  
Muscles quivering Pierre stood with the gun clenched tightly in his hand still pointing at Justin’s prone body. Nissa stepped up next to him and gently lowered his arm carefully prying his fingers away from the butt of the gun.  
  
“Pierre,” she spoke gently. “It’s over…give me the gun.”  
  
The former bounty hunter let his grip go slack as she took the pistol from him and tucked it into her belt. Then she placed firm hands on his shoulders and stared intently into his face.  
  
“This never happened. You never killed him. Do you understand that?”  
  
Pierre smiled bitterly his brown eyes bright and hard.  
  
“Yeah, I understand. But…this is one killing I’ll never forget.”  
  
Nissa hesitated, then nodded in agreement. She understood why that was. He’d had a reason to kill this time; not just for money, but for something much more important. That very reason was waiting for them back at Jen’s apartment.  
  
Waiting quietly, Nissa watched as Pierre pulled himself together. He smoothed a hand across his shorn hair and tugged his jacket shut against the chill air. Then, casting one final glance at the dead body, he turned away, Nissa by his side as they walked back toward the noisy Montreal street.  
  
Stepping out into the throng of Montreal night clubbers the couple, soon joined by another woman, disappeared into the deepening night letting the bright lights, the noisy revellers, swallow them up leaving no trace that they had ever been there.

 


End file.
